“God so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son” (Jn 3:16). This is the heart of the Gospel; this is the source of our joy. The Gospel message is not an idea or a doctrine. It is Jesus himself: the Son whom the Father has given us so that we might have life. Jesus is the source of our joy: not some lovely theory about how to find happiness, but the actual experience of being accompanied and loved throughout the journey of life. “God so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son”. Brothers and sisters, let us dwell on these two thoughts for a moment: “God so loved” and “God gave”.

First of all, God so loved. Jesus’ words to Nicodemus — a Jewish elder who wanted to know the Master — help us to see the true face of God. He has always looked at us with love, and for the sake of love, he came among us in the flesh of his Son. In Jesus, he went in search of us when we were lost. In Jesus, he came to raise us up when we fell. In Jesus, he wept with us and healed our wounds. In Jesus, he blessed our life forever. The Gospel tells us that whoever believes in him will not perish (ibid.). In Jesus, God spoke the definitive word about our life: you are not lost, you are loved. Loved forever.

If hearing the Gospel and practicing our faith don’t enlarge our hearts and make us grasp the immensity of God’s love — maybe because we prefer a glum, sorrowful and self-absorbed religiosity — then this is a sign that we need to stop and listen once more to the preaching of the Good News. God loves you so much that he gave you his entire life. He is not a god who looks down upon us from on high, indifferent, but a loving Father who becomes part of our history. He is not a god who takes pleasure in the death of sinners, but a Father concerned that that no one be lost. He is not a god who condemns, but a Father who saves us with the comforting embrace of his love.

We now come to the second aspect: God “gave” his Son. Precisely because he loves us so much, God gives himself; he offers us his life. Those who love always go out of themselves. Don’t forget this: those who love go out of themselves. Love always offers itself, gives itself, expends itself. That is the power of love: it shatters the shell of our selfishness, breaks out of our carefully constructed security zones, tears down walls and overcomes fears, so as to give freely of itself. That is what love does: it gives itself. And that is how lovers are: they prefer to risk self-giving over self-preservation. That is why God comes to us: because he “so loved” us. His love is so great that he cannot fail to give himself to us. When the people were attacked by poisonous serpents in the desert, God told Moses to make the bronze serpent. In Jesus, however, exalted on the cross, he himself came to heal us of the venom of death; he became sin to save us from sin. God does not love us in words: he gives us his Son, so that whoever looks at him and believes in him will be saved (cf. Jn 3:14-15).

The more we love, the more we become capable of giving. That is also the key to understanding our life. It is wonderful to meet people who love one another and share their lives in love. We can say about them what we say about God: they so love each other that they give their lives. It is not only what we can make or earn that matters; in the end, it is the love we are able to give.

This is the source of joy! God so loved the world that he gave his Son. Here we see the meaning of the Church’s invitation this Sunday: “Rejoice... Rejoice and be glad, you who mourn: find contentment and consolation” (Entrance Antiphon; cf. Is 66:10-11). I think of what we saw a week ago in Iraq: a people who had suffered so much rejoiced and were glad, thanks to God and his merciful love.

Sometimes we look for joy where it is not to be found: in illusions that vanish, in dreams of glory, in the apparent security of material possessions, in the cult of our image, and in so many other things. But life teaches us that true joy comes from realizing that we are loved gratuitously, knowing that we are not alone, having someone who shares our dreams and who, when we experience shipwreck, is there to help us and lead us to a safe harbor.

[Pope Francis, homily on the occasion of the 500th anniversary of the evangelisation of the Philippines, 14 March 2021]

Get stuck on the instruction booklet, or evolve

(Jn 3:7-15)

Life in the Spirit proceeds by new births, not according to a progress marked by mechanisms, skills, or instruction booklets.

Light interrogates, for a different dimension - where (giving way to a reversal of ideas, faces and perspectives) our ‘whys’ cease to making us pile up frustrations.

Nicodemus controlled any stagnation or progress by comparing them to the wisdom of the things of God on the basis of ancient [or of circle] expectations.

But not infrequently our growth proceeds in visions, in leaps and bounds - not even according to natural intelligence. Let alone the spiritual life.

It is not enough to practise and go along with transmitted or fashionable ideas, nor to agree with normal, external intentions.

Assimilating other people's knowledge and acquiring already expected expertise is not infrequently junk that blocks real developments - those that belong to us.

Unfortunately, in religious life one often proceeds automatically, and there seems to be no need to allow oneself to be saved or surprised by events.

In the adventure of Faith - which disorients - the Father's Plan and the Son's Work do not unfold in a reasonable manner, but in the motif of the disproportion of Love.

The Spirit's unit of measure is different from that of the agreed customs, or the latest fashion.

Its impetus is elusive Wind, 'visible' only in its effects.

The Secret is «from Above» (v.7): out of scale. It lurks in the unpredictability of crossroads, surpluses, new creations.

Life does not proceed by arguments to boredom: it protrudes or pales.

Thus, access to the Kingdom is not given by being tailored to Adam: «being flesh» and «things of the earth» (vv.6.12).

The threshold comes from what the Encounter with Christ works in those who follow Him - and are introduced into community or prophetic life as «regenerated sons».

The late editing of Jn reflects symbols and realities of Christian Baptism,  wich was already widely experienced at that time.

E.g. in the Letter to Titus the ‘sacrament’ itself is referred to as «rebirth».

Jesus speaks to Nicodemus about the essential elements of the gesture: water and the Spirit - which is the Newness.

In the Spirit, water no longer has the only negative function of purifying or removing a burden [eliminating sin in the sign of a washing].

The ablutions’ water that slips away becomes precious and effective: it must be «assimilated» for growth, to create life - which now not only cleans or suffocates.

Birth in Water and Spirit speaks of new existence after producing a Void that takes us elsewhere...

Not so much in the refreshment and quiet peace, but into the unpredictable that often messes up everything - even in a decisive way.

The new Genesis is not bound to any law: as an intimate Creation.

Mysterious, inexplicable reality, but infallibly leading to completeness - although it can be very fast, instantaneous; completely indeterminable, especially in comparison to normal devout adhesion.

It is Action beyond any purpose and process: a bit like reality and the very work of the Wind.

Not simply "eternal life", but «Life of the Eternal» [v.15 Greek text].

Personal life - which in all spheres disseminates unknown energies, clears the gaps, the hollows of routine, captures new synchronies.

Here the Crucified One who takes communion is the elevated light point that attracts and shifts our gazes, going beyond foggy thoughts and usages; around whom we gather as new sons and brethren.

[Tuesday 2nd week in Easter, April 14, 2026]

Wind of the Spirit, new Birth

(Jn 3:7-15)

Life in the Spirit proceeds by new Birth, not according to a progress marked by mechanisms, skills, or instruction booklets.

The Light interrogates, for a different dimension - where (giving way to a reversal of ideas, faces and perspectives) our whys cease to accumulate frustrations.

Nicodemus controlled any stagnation or progress by comparing them to the wisdom of the things of God on the basis of ancient expectations [or clubs].

But not infrequently our growth proceeds by leaps and bounds - not even according to natural intelligence. Let alone the spiritual life.

It is not enough to practise and get along with ideas of fathers or à la page, nor to remain in agreement with normal, external intentions.

We should empty ourselves of unreinterpreted memories, of habitual domestications; of cerebral, disembodied, external, albeit ancient or 'current' theories.

Assimilating other people's knowledge and acquiring already expected expertise is not infrequently junk that blocks true developments - those that belong to us.

Unfortunately, in religious life we often proceed automatically, and there seems to be no need to allow ourselves to be saved or surprised by events.

At best one exposes oneself to a few breezes.

In the adventure of Faith - which disorientates - the Father's Project and the Son's Work do not unfold in a reasonable manner, but in the motive of the disproportion of Love.

The Spirit's unit of measure is different from that of agreed customs, or the latest fashion.

Its impetus is elusive Wind, 'visible' only in ecclesiastical and personal effects, stripped of junk.

The Secret is "from above" (v.7): off the scale. It lurks in the unpredictability of crossroads, surpluses, new creations.

This nourishes what were once perhaps shadow sides of the true 'Pharisee self'.

Even as a complacent man of God, perhaps remarkable - which, however, did not find its full place in reality.

Life does not proceed by arguments to boredom: it protrudes or pales.

For us too: one can frequently hold the Eucharist or the Scriptures in one's hand and not realise that the road already taken can give rise to illusions of spiritual doctoring.

Access to the Kingdom does not come from being Adam-sized: "being flesh" and "things of the earth" (vv.6.12).

The threshold comes from what the encounter with Christ works in those who follow him - and are introduced into community or prophetic life as a regenerated son.

The late redaction of John reflects symbols and realities of Christian baptism, which was already widely experienced at the time.

E.g. in the Letter to Titus, the 'sacrament' itself is referred to as 'rebirth'.

Jesus speaks to Nicodemus of the essential elements of the gesture: water and the Spirit - which is the Newness.

In the Spirit, water no longer has only the negative function of purifying or removing a burden, i.e. removing sin in the sign of washing.

The water of the ablutions that runs off becomes precious and effective: it must be assimilated for growth, to create life - which now not only cleanses or suffocates.

The Birth in water and Spirit speaks of new existence after having produced a Void that takes us elsewhere...

Not so much in refreshment and quiet peace, but in the unpredictable that often throws everything upside down - even decisively.

The new Genesis is not bound to any law: like an intimate Creation.

Mysterious reality, inexplicable, but infallibly leading to completeness - although it can be very fast, instantaneous; completely indeterminable, especially in comparison to normal devout adherence.

It is Action outside of all purpose and process: a bit like the reality and workings of the Wind itself.

The pious man knows that human existence has no meaning outside of God, but he finds it hard to imagine the sacred depth of his heart - and the richness of his own face, so foreign to earthly prejudices.

In order for us to understand the Birth from above, from v.11 the evangelist abruptly switches from the first person singular ['I' of Jesus] to the 'we' that embraces the community of Faith.

The reference is first and foremost to the 'new' non-Jews, coming from pagan religiosity and culture.

Our ecclesial task is to live, proclaim, and represent a decisive enrichment of human life. So much so that it verges - especially in communion - on the divine condition ("things from heaven": v.12).

For the understanding of all this, there is a lack of any point of reference, because sharing is personal and creative, always unprecedented; impossible to chisel into moral or even ideal casuistry.

Life, coexistence, and Gratuity do not willingly submit to worldviews, ideologies, sophistications, or reassuring schemes.

The key to understanding is only the mystery of "the Son of Man" [v.13: point of union of the two kingdoms] who has already experienced that world."Son of man" is man in the divine condition - the true and full development of the divine plan for humanity, as fully grasped in the total self-giving, glorified on the Cross (vv.14-15).

Moses' sign of salvation for the healing of the insidious people acquires its full meaning in such a proposal that impregnates the path of each one; the indestructible life, the very Life of God.

Not: aroused who knows when and how... but which we are privileged to be able to experience already here and now, living in the supreme Sign of the Free.

Stripping away the junk of petty wiles and filling it with the exuberant Otherness. Wisdom, fulfilling.

Not simply "eternal life", but "Life of the Eternal" [v.15 Greek text].

Personal life - that in all spheres disseminates unknown energies, clears the gaps of routine, grasps new synchronicities.

Here the Crucified One who gives communion is the elevated point of light that attracts and shifts our gaze, transcending thoughts and customs that cloud us; around whom we gather as new children and brothers.

To internalise and live the message:

What do you think your Births were? Were they the fruit of reassuring domestications, or did you have to empty them out and rethink them?

Are you still heading in the direction of the wind of the ancient fathers, or are you unfurling your sails in the direction of the Wind of the Spirit, which tosses up your securities, even group or fashionable ones?

From sign of condemnation to sign of redemption

Eternal life has been opened to us by the Paschal Mystery of Christ and faith is the way to reach it. This is what emerges from the words addressed by Jesus to Nicodemus and reported by the evangelist John: "And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life" (John 3:14-15). Here is the explicit reference to the episode narrated in the book of Numbers (21:1-9), which emphasises the saving power of faith in the divine word. During the exodus, the Jewish people rebelled against Moses and God, and were punished with the plague of poisonous serpents. Moses asked for forgiveness, and God, accepting the repentance of the Israelites, commanded him: "Make a snake and put it on a pole; whoever after being bitten shall look upon it and remain alive. And so it was. Jesus, in his conversation with Nicodemus, reveals the deeper meaning of that salvation event, relating it to his own death and resurrection: the Son of Man must be lifted up on the wood of the Cross so that whoever believes in Him may have life. St John sees precisely in the mystery of the Cross the moment in which the royal glory of Jesus is revealed, the glory of a love that gives itself entirely in passion and death. Thus the Cross, paradoxically, from being a sign of condemnation, of death, of failure, becomes a sign of redemption, of life, of victory, in which, with a gaze of faith, one can see the fruits of salvation.

[Pope Benedict, homily 4 November 2010].

Eternal life was opened to us by the Paschal Mystery of Christ and faith is the way to reach it. This is what what emerges from Jesus' words to Nicodemus in the Gospel of the Evangelist John: “And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life" (Jn 3:14-15). The explicit reference to the episode narrated in the book of Numbers (21:1-9) highlights the saving force of faith in the divine word. During the Exodus, the Hebrew people rebelled against Moses and God and were punished by the plague of fiery serpents. Moses asked for forgiveness and God, accepting the repentance of the Israelites, ordered him to “make a fiery serpent, and set it on a pole; and every one who is bitten, when he sees it, shall live”. And so it happened. Jesus, in his conversation with Nicodemus, revealed a more profound significance of this event of salvation, referring it to his own death and Resurrection: the Son of Man must be lifted on the wood of the Cross so that whoever believes in him may have life. St John sees precisely in the mystery of the Cross the moment in which the real glory of Jesus is revealed, the glory of a love that gives itself totally in the passion and death. Thus, paradoxically, from a sign of condemnation, death and failure, the Cross becomes a sign of redemption, life and victory, through faith, the fruits of salvation can be gathered.

[Pope Benedict, homily 4 November 2010]

6. The identity of the Son of Man appears in the dual aspect of representative of God, herald of the kingdom of God, prophet calling to conversion. On the other hand, he is the 'representative' of men, whose earthly condition and sufferings he shares in order to redeem and save them according to the Father's plan. As he himself says in his conversation with Nicodemus: "As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of man be lifted up that whoever believes in him may have eternal life" (Jn 3:14-15).

It is a clear proclamation of the passion, which Jesus repeats: "And he began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer greatly, and be reproved by the elders and the chief priests and the scribes, and then be killed, and after three days rise again" (Mk 8:31). Three times in Mark's Gospel (cf. Mk 9:31; 10:33-34), and in each of them Jesus speaks of himself as the "Son of Man".

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 29 April 1987]

When we look to the Cross where Jesus was nailed, we contemplate the sign of love, of the infinite love of God for each of us and the source of our salvation. The mercy of God, which embraces the whole world, springs from the Cross. Through the Cross of Christ the Evil One is overcome, death is defeated, life is given to us, hope is restored. This is important: through the Cross of Christ hope is restored to us. The Cross of Jesus is our one true hope! That is why the Church “exalts” the Holy Cross, and why we Christians bless ourselves with the sign of the cross. That is, we don’t exalt crosses, but the glorious Cross of Christ, the sign of God’s immense love, the sign of our salvation and path toward the Resurrection. This is our hope.

While we contemplate and celebrate the Holy Cross, we think with emotion of so many of our brothers and sisters who are being persecuted and killed because of their faith in Christ. This happens especially wherever religious freedom is still not guaranteed or fully realized. It happens, however, even in countries and areas which, in principle, protect freedom and human rights but where, in practice, believers, and especially Christians, encounter restrictions and discrimination. So today we remember them and pray for them in a special way.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 14 September 2014]

(Jn 3:1-8)

Jn introduces the Gospel passage with the highly representative Jewish leader, insisting on the imperfection of believing in prodigies that only grasp the outward side.

On the contrary, it seems to emphasise that the devotion-show so coveted by religious leaders only arouses deviant expectations and ambiguous hearts (2:18-25).

In the fourth Gospel, the notable represents precisely the Jews intrigued by the figure of Jesus [called Jews because they were related to the Judaizers of the first communities].

Some of them question themselves and do not silence the questions, but remain perplexed - because they are educated to other messianic, peremptory and clamorous expectations.

In fact, they cultivated the whole issue concerning the Kingdom of God (vv.3.5) in an approximate and conformist manner.

In addition, Jesus teaches that all speculation does not bring good results for life in the Spirit.

Our profound experience is not generated from what woman and man devise or do for God, from their possibilities - as assumed in ancient religions.

We must rely on the Grace that enters the scene, overturning petty hopes - in this way, not relying on our own measures, skills and dexterity; nor on thoughts, as established as they are inadequate.

The new Rabbi makes it clear that to understand the Mystery one must shake off the outer book of the Law, and embark on an experience of ideal and practical transmutation, like a Birth - alongside a regenerating Agent.

Christ prompts Nicodemus to make the leap from normal traditional devotion, with its reasonable intentions and expectations, to the adventure of Faith that grasps, dreams and maps out the future, surpassing the habitual chain of expectations.

One does not understand the Newness of God according to common knowledge, starting with the patriarchs - or by reading it in the watermark of a normative, albeit sharable.

The new order of existence is superior to all dexterity, restraint, and resilience. That which is born from the flesh is, however, subject to all boundaries.

Vice versa, the path 'from above' creates a new personality, thanks to which we are enabled to correspond perfectly to the Calling by Name, which propose itself again wave after wave in an increasing and dissimilar manner.

Recreated by the indestructible Life that Comes, we too are enabled to generate something similar to the same Nature that gives birth to us. As sparks somehow conforming to the divine: similis sibi similem parit.

Precisely: the too normal is unable to redefine the codes of a new look, and of the inconceivable space of unknown love.

What does not coincide with the inherited ideas is actually activating the new developments.

What is contrary to established customs, or fashions, is preparing another world, a different person, another trail to follow.

The Kingdom is not set up: it is welcomed - because it always throws us off guard.

The relationship with the God of religions usually comes up with static and reassuring recipes, but the experience of Faith in Christ convinces “by Way” that each stage must instead correspond to another genesis.

Indeed, the thorny trials are all called to a leap of over-nature; to sprout again.

Birth in the Spirit does not happen once and for all: only then will living not be a reward, nor perishing a punishment.

For we have become like a Wind.

[Monday 2nd wk. in Easter, April 13, 2026]

(Jn 3:1-8)

Jn introduces the Gospel passage with the very representative Jewish leader, insisting on the imperfection of believing in prodigies. They only grasp the outward side.

Indeed, he seems to emphasise that the religion-show so coveted by the religious leaders called Jews, because they were akin to the Judaizers of the first communities, arouses only deviant expectations and ambiguous hearts (2:18-25).

Nicodemus was a Pharisee, a prominent person, a leader among the early religious leaders, and even a member of the Sanhedrin [supreme court], which, however, recognises in Christ a messenger from God.

In the fourth Gospel, the notable represents precisely the Jews who were intrigued by the figure of Jesus. Some of them question and do not silence their questions, but remain perplexed - because they were educated to other messianic, peremptory and clamorous expectations.

Indeed, the authorities cultivated the whole issue concerning the 'Kingdom of God' (vv.3.5) in an approximate and conformist manner. [The expression so frequent in the Synoptics - 'kingdom of heaven' in Mt - is only found in this passage of the Fourth Gospel].

But it is only a point of support, because Jesus teaches that all speculations do not bring good results for life in the Spirit, which is not generated from what man devises or does for God, from his possibilities - as in religions.

We must rely on Grace, which enters the scene by overturning petty hopes - in this way, not relying on our own measures, skills and dexterity; nor on thoughts, which are as established as they are inadequate.

The new Rebbe makes it clear that to understand the Mystery we must shake off the outer book of the Law, and undertake an experience of ideal and practical transmutation, like a Birth - alongside a regenerating Agent.

Christ stimulates Nicodemus to make the leap from normal traditional religiosity, with its reasonable intentions and expectations, to the adventure of Faith that grasps, dreams and traces the future, surpassing the habitual chain of expectations.

One does not understand the Newness of God according to ancient knowledge, starting with the patriarchs - or by reading it in the watermark of a normative, albeit sharable, standard.

The new order of existence is superior to all capacities, all holdings and resiliences. That which is born from the flesh is in any case subject to too many boundaries.

Conversely, the path from above creates a new personality, by which we are enabled to correspond perfectly to the Calling by Name, which repeats itself wave after wave in increasing and dissimilar ways.

Recreated from the indestructible Life that Comes, we too are enabled to generate something like the same Nature that gives birth to us. As sparks that somehow conform to the divine: similis sibi similem parit.

Exactly: the too normal is unable to redefine the codes of a new look, and of the inconceivable space of unknown love.

It is not a question of changing banners, or 'cutting something' and mortifying oneself more. Rather, integrating and shining, changing beliefs.

What does not coincide with the inherited ideas is actually activating the new developments.

That which is contrary to established customs, or fashions, is preparing another world, a different person, a new calling (in the same personal vocation), another trail to follow.

It is no longer the God of religions, everything still and always to be achieved with arrangements, agility in the smallest details, and chiselled rhythms, accumulating merits according to clichés.

The Kingdom is not set up: it is welcomed - because it always bewilders us.

So it cannot be predetermined: it is impossible to set it up on the basis of our genius, muscles, virtues, perfections. We receive Him as a free gift and without 'due' prerequisites.

The God who comes without warning calls us to listen, to know what is unbelievable - to allow ourselves to be saved in an unthinkable way, then to be taken by surprise by the facts that Providence brings.

And there to stay, until the next news.

Jesus invites Nicodemus to scrutinise the reality of the soul and the events as a global sphere, of overall energies that draw together in paradoxical synergy, to recover the opposite sides - all of them useful.

Innate forces that are activated by attunements and reciprocal ways, making themselves infallible guides: cosmic outside and acutely divine within us.

The recoveries that Jesus makes through the quality of life of his own and of the communities generate in the one who is in the 'night' of doubt (v.2) an initial search and dedication, but they do not arouse active Faith.

In short, one does not understand God from arguments, but from the experience of involvement wave after wave; recreating, from the accepted Gift of one's own history, in the sign of the times.

We must lay aside the reassuring certainties of the normal religious catechism, and open heart and hand to the reality that comes like a tide - not to put us on the defensive, but to ride it.Throwing ourselves into the life of the Spirit retrieves us, but it supplants and overrides the organisation of the settled synagogues; it is not within the reach of complacent mechanisms or impersonal balances.

At most we understand its intrinsic course - the fullness of humanisation, in the creaturely plan - not its Origin and Goal.

Humanity, in its voluntarist plan and even in its good intentions, is unable to solve the real problems. It cannot give itself salvation; only manners - initiating at the same time processes of communion and individuation.

This is the new restlessness and the 'night' of questions that we, like Nicodemus, experience, practising teaching and works according to the norm - which do not convey a sense of fullness of being, indeed despite great promises seem to attract precisely sadness.

It is the Spirit of oneness that dominates the chaos, that shapes heaven and earth, and takes possession of the eminent characters of the First Testament, prompting them to perform actions in favour of the emancipation of the people - acting with contagious power.

But resting "as a dove" - a figure of a force no longer aggressive - on Jesus in Baptism (Jn 1:32), he initiates a new Creation, the reconciled Man, capable of fulfilling his vocation.

Of course, what characterises this Wind is freedom, not control. 

It acts energetically on us, but we do not act on Him. We cannot affect it. Only set the sails according to its direction, and look at it with new eyes.

Even in difficulties, the Gift of the Spirit prepares us for another Birth. Then the Word of Jesus announces an upheaval that goes to the root of the common pious life.

The relationship with the God of religions usually comes up with static and reassuring recipes, but the experience of Faith in Christ convinces "by Way" that each stage must instead correspond to another genesis.

Indeed, thorny trials are all called to a leap of supra-nature; to germinate again.

Birth in the Spirit does not happen once and for all: only then will living not be a prize, nor perishing a punishment.

For we have become like a Wind.

To internalise and live the message:

Do you accept the surprise? Do you feel it as a revelation of the Spirit's action? How do you react to the novelties that the apostolate proposes? On what occasion have you perceived that you are born again?

The Gospel presents to us a person by the name of Nicodemus, a member of the Sanhedrin of Jerusalem who sought out Jesus by night. He was a well-to-do man, attracted by the Lord's words and example, but one who hesitated to take the leap of faith because he was fearful of others. He felt the fascination of this Rabbi, so different from the others, but could not manage to rid himself of the conditioning of his environment that was hostile to Jesus, and stood irresolute on the threshold of faith. 

How many people also in our time are in search of God, in search of Jesus and of his Church, in search of divine mercy, and are waiting for a "sign" that will touch their minds and their hearts! 

Today, as then, the Evangelist reminds us that the only "sign" is Jesus raised on the Cross:  Jesus who died and rose is the absolutely sufficient sign. Through him we can understand the truth about life and obtain salvation. 

This is the principal proclamation of the Church, which remains unchanged down the ages.
The Christian faith, therefore, is not an ideology but a personal encounter with the Crucified and Risen Christ. From this experience, both individual and communitarian, flows a new way of thinking and acting:  an existence marked by love is born, as the saints testify.

[Pope Benedict, homily 26 March 2006]