Complete vs Perfect

(Jn 10:22-30)

In the so-called ‘Book of Signs’ of the Fourth Gospel (Jn.1-12), a progressive revelation of the divine Mystery that envelops the Person of Jesus takes place.

As such an unveiling becomes more precise, both adherence and misunderstanding grow around his figure, even of his neighbours - to the extent that He departs from traditional expectations of the Messiah as a glorious leader and executioner.

Thus, in our vocational experience we have often realized that full existence and paths of indestructible quality (vv.28-29) are not subject to immediately satisfying demands of the common mentality.

The Life of the Eternal (v.28) reveals itself as a goad: not to mortify intentions, but to set us on paths of growth.

The Gospel is not confirmation of tastes, of preferences and convictions.

And Jn 10:22-24 applies this criterion blatantly - in the blow by blow friction with the chiefs of conformist religiosity: contradicting the mentality of the experts.

Religious rule developed the idea that the Torah could cleanse the mind of errors, and the inclination of impurities - in order to chisel out a people pleasing to God.

In this way, the authorities felt no need to search for the Mystery of God.

The top of the class wanted Jesus to define himself so that they could judge him according to the fundamentalist criteria that permeated their teaching and common mentality.

The Master, on the other hand, did not place himself in established ideas, into a fixed framework; He was not stuck on a wavelength.

Christ is a fraternal presence for us, not a “ratifier”.

Jesus, the authentic guide, was a «friend of publicans and sinners» in the sense that he taught to broaden the harmony of creaturely being.

The new Rabbi did not want to sterilize emotions or situations.

The inner world and anxieties were not to be silenced at all, but rather encountered and known.

To enter into the life of Faith and become liberators of others, one must be emancipated and tirelessly available, able to shake convictions - starting with oneself.

In short, for those who considered themselves already arrived and masters of the situation, the “new” one always had to present authorizations, credentials, permits - or he would not have the right to speak and act.

Instead, the Lord calls for confidence, unfiltered conversation, collaboration: a propitious climate that allows the Father to reveal himself.

And beyond words, which indeed can always be misunderstood, it is the works of life alone that are eloquent language (v.25).

But it is the soul that does not want to believe: a feeling of those who do not belong to Him (v.26).

The problem is the calibrated eye, or openness. Only the perception of the unsteady is free of affected ballast.

Being One (v.30) has motivated Christ, and still today guides the lesser family members to feel adequate, on an equal footing; He leads them to the Face to face.

Not to disciplinary obedience, but to prophetic likeness.

[Tuesday 4th wk. in Easter, April 28, 2026]

Complete vs Perfect ones

(Jn 10:22-30)

In the so-called Book of Signs of the Fourth Gospel (Jn.1-12) there is a progressive revelation of the divine Mystery that envelops the Person of Jesus.

As this unveiling becomes more precise, both adhesion and incomprehension grow around His figure, even of His neighbours - to the extent that He departs from the traditional expectations of the Messiah, the glorious leader and executioner.

Even in our vocational experience, we have often realised that full existence and paths of indestructible quality (vv.28-29) are not subject to demands immediately satisfying the common mentality.

The Life of the Eternal (v.28) is revealed as a goad: not to mortify intentions, but to set us on paths of growth.

The Gospel is not confirmation of likes, dislikes and convictions.

And Jn 10:22-24 applies this criterion in a blatant manner - in blow by blow friction with the leaders of conformist religiosity: contradicting the mentality of the experts.

The religious rule developed the idea that the Torah could cleanse the mind of errors, and the inclination of people of impurities - in order to chisel out a people pleasing to God.

Anything that disturbed the prescribed balance had to be immediately condemned and punished, as deleterious to fixed stability, mass cohesion, and its very efficiency.

The complete configuration of the indisputable religious proposal, and the magnificence of the official cult structures, guaranteed the eloquence and imperturbability of conditioning (on the misfits).

Doubts and insecurities were immediately branded as disturbing factors in the landscape of reassurance and the profile of normality - to be repressed from adolescence onwards.

The new Rabbi, on the other hand, did not want to sterilise emotions or situations.

The inner world and anxieties were not to be silenced at all, but to be encountered and known.

On the other hand, [as we do today] looking around he realised that it was precisely in observant people, the standard-bearers of ethics or manners, who repressed spontaneous impulses or, conversely, profound criteria, that narrowness and disorders increased.

Precisely those who faced the spiritual path... by increasing dirigisme, manners and control, became exaggeratedly snobbish, confrontational and secretly untrustworthy.

Burdened with suffocating norms, the naive people were reduced to unhappiness.

Everyone felt restlessness and parchedness - precisely because the obsession with sin poured out on the unwell, preventing them from integrating their desires.

In short, what had to be reduced and annihilated for reasons of social, civil, devout consonance, ended up penetrating souls in a more intimate manner, resurfacing here and there in a paradoxical manner, with duplicity and very serious relational imbalances.

Authentic Jesus the Guide was a 'friend of publicans and sinners' in the sense that He taught to expand the harmony of creaturely being.

He himself wanted to learn the art of looking without prejudice, and to treasure various experiences; of all that could emerge even from within.

The perfection he preached to others was in the imperfection of selflessness, in the irrationality of love, in the absurdity of pure gift-giving and tolerance, which gleaned pearls of experience from everywhere.

Indeed, according to the True Shepherd, it was important precisely to be troubled, rather than impassive.

All in order to know in time and make sense even of the signs that worry [even according to a pious, or à la page, and aligned mentality] - thus completing ourselves.

Learning to welcome, not to establish.

The authentic Master and Friend knows that ... Only what touches, involves, and upsets us personally will succeed in shifting our gaze, to grow. To activate exodus to fertile pastures, the land of freedom.

The Feast of the Dedication [Feast of Lights] was being celebrated, a commemoration of the purification of the Temple, consecration and dedication of a new altar [following the Hellenist desecration by Antiochus IV Epiphanes, who had forced his hand by imposing the cult to Olympian Zeus in that place].

The debate with the institutional masters takes place as usual in Solomon's Portico - each time trying to educate them to let go of their sense of inquisition and domination, still unbearable today.

The authorities felt no need to seek the Mystery of God.

In this way, the leaders wanted Jesus to define himself, so that they could judge him according to the criteria of their abstract world; which impregnated their teaching and common mentality.

On the contrary, the Master even for us today does not place himself in the armour of established ideas, in a pre-established, contrived, external framework.

He does not stagnate, stuck on a wavelength; as if he were fearful of the unknown - hence for us the bearer of a non-alarming devotion.

Christ is a fraternal presence, certainly - not a 'ratifier'.To enter the life of Faith and become liberators of others, one must be emancipated and tirelessly available, able to shake up convictions - starting with oneself.

In short, for those who consider themselves arrived and masters of the situation, the new must present the imprint of authorisations, credentials, permissions - or one has no right to speak and act.

Instead, the Lord calls for confidence, for conversation, for collaboration: a propitious climate that allows the Father to reveal himself.

He only rejects fanaticism, sophisticated, cerebral, mannered, and one-sided thinking.

In short, Jesus did not want to be mistaken for 'the' [that] expected political Messiah: resembling David. That is why it requires the so-called messianic secret.

And beyond words, which indeed can always be misunderstood, it is the works of life alone that are eloquent language (v.25).

But it is the soul that did not want to believe: the feeling of those who do not belong to him (v.26).

In fact, sincere Faith is activated from a first testimony within, in the being, in one's own character and creaturely imprint (Jn 6:44).

(Vv.25-26) If you do not lead people to think differently, giving evidence is of no use. The problem is the shaky eye, or openness. And it is only the perception of the unhealthy that is free of interested ballast.

The mutual understanding between Jesus and the least of the people is complete transparency, total harmony even on the basis of an elementary sympathy: the natural Way that unites Father and sons.

All this, starting from a sure testimony in oneself, not from a preconceived religious rationalism.

Being One (v.30) motivated Christ, and still leads the voiceless to feel adequate, equal.

It leads them to face-to-face, without the need for models, rigmarole, legalisms, affected manners.

Not disciplinary obedience, but prophetic likeness.

It annoys us to be compared to a flock, but in ancient Israel the archetype of the shepherd who shares everything with his sheep remained even in Jesus' time a prototype of existence and life of communion with God.

The metaphor must be understood in the sense of the family relationship, of total sharing: feeling the burden and the goals together; grasping the spirit of each one and seeing the qualities, or providing for them; trusting even in destitution.

In the life of Faith, the guiding specialists should introduce us into this special relationship with the Father who knows each of his kinsmen, and redeems their loneliness or vice versa.

Immediacy and personal freedom in love are the cornerstone of the new relationship with the Most High.

A frankness that Jesus teaches without looking anyone in the face who is still enraptured by worldly elements - let alone being intimidated by marauders (vv.1.5.8.10.12-13) in angelic garb.

His Word and extreme events are still the Gates that lead [radically] to Heaven and humanity.

All this despite the fact that his Message is considered crazy and demonic by those interested in the status quo (vv.20-21).

Conversely, by crossing all the expected thresholds, in our imbalances we penetrate the furrows of reality and mystery; we introduce ourselves there where royal decisions ripen - finding surpassing fascination.

Perfect correspondence with our vocational trait and yearning for the fullness of life.

Knowledge of the heart

Jesus speaks of himself as the Good Shepherd who gives eternal life to his sheep (cf. Jn 10:28). That of the shepherd is an image well rooted in the Old Testament and dear to the Christian tradition. The title "Shepherd of Israel" is attributed by the Prophets to the future descendant of David, and thus possesses undoubted messianic significance (cf. Ez 34:23). Jesus is the true Shepherd of Israel, in that he is the Son of Man who wanted to share the condition of human beings in order to give them new life and lead them to salvation. Significantly to the term "shepherd" the evangelist adds the adjective kalós, beautiful, which he uses solely in reference to Jesus and his mission. Also in the story of the wedding feast of Cana, the adjective kalós is used twice to connote the wine offered by Jesus and it is easy to see in it the symbol of the good wine of the messianic times (cf. Jn 2:10).

"I give them (my sheep) eternal life, and they shall never be lost" (Jn 10:28). So says Jesus, who shortly before had said: "The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep" (cf. Jn 10:11). John uses the verb tithénai - to offer, which he repeats in the following verses (15.17.18); we find the same verb in the account of the Last Supper, when Jesus "laid down" his garments and then "took them up again" (cf. Jn 13:4.12). It is clear that he wants to affirm in this way that the Redeemer disposes of his life with absolute freedom, so that he can offer it and then take it back freely. Christ is the true Good Shepherd who gave his life for his sheep, for us, by sacrificing himself on the Cross. He knows His sheep and His sheep know Him, just as the Father knows Him and He knows the Father (cf. Jn 10:14-15). It is not a matter of mere intellectual knowledge, but of a deep personal relationship; a knowledge of the heart, proper to the one who loves and the one who is loved; of the one who is faithful and the one who knows that he can be trusted in turn; a knowledge of love by virtue of which the Shepherd invites his own to follow him, and which is fully manifested in the gift he gives them of eternal life (cf. Jn 10:27-28).

[Pope Benedict, homily for priestly ordination 29 April 2007]

The Gospel [...] is only a part of Jesus' great discourse on shepherds. In this passage, the Lord tells us three things about the true shepherd:  he gives his own life for his sheep; he knows them and they know him; he is at the service of unity.

Before reflecting on these three characteristics essential to shepherds, it might be useful to recall briefly the previous part of the discourse on shepherds in which Jesus, before designating himself as the Shepherd, says, to our surprise:  "I am the door" (Jn 10: 7).

It is through him that one must enter the service of shepherd. Jesus highlights very clearly this basic condition by saying:  "he who... climbs in by another way, that man is a thief and a robber" (Jn 10: 1). This word "climbs" - anabainei in Greek - conjures up the image of someone climbing over a fence to get somewhere out of bounds to him.

"To climb" - here too we can also see the image of careerism, the attempt to "get ahead", to gain a position through the Church:  to make use of and not to serve. It is the image of a man who wants to make himself important, to become a person of note through the priesthood; the image of someone who has as his aim his own exaltation and not the humble service of Jesus Christ.

But the only legitimate ascent towards the shepherd's ministry is the Cross. This is the true way to rise; this is the true door. It is not the desire to become "someone" for oneself, but rather to exist for others, for Christ, and thus through him and with him to be there for the people he seeks, whom he wants to lead on the path of life.

One enters the priesthood through the Sacrament, and this means precisely:  through the gift of oneself to Christ, so that he can make use of me; so that I may serve him and follow his call, even if it proves contrary to my desire for self-fulfilment and esteem.

Entering by the door which is Christ means knowing and loving him more and more, so that our will may be united with his will, our action become one with his action.

Dear friends, let us pray ever anew for this intention, let us strive precisely for this:  in other words, for Christ to grow within us and for our union with him to become ever deeper, so that through us it is Christ himself who tends the flock.

Let us now take a closer look at the three fundamental affirmations of Jesus on the good shepherd. The first one, which very forcefully pervades the whole discourse on shepherds, says:  the shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. The mystery of the Cross is at the centre of Jesus' service as a shepherd:  it is the great service that he renders to all of us.

He gives himself and not only in a distant past. In the Holy Eucharist he does so every day, he gives himself through our hands, he gives himself to us. For this good reason the Holy Eucharist, in which the sacrifice of Jesus on the Cross remains continually present, truly present among us, is rightly at the centre of priestly life.

And with this as our starting point, we also learn what celebrating the Eucharist properly means:  it is an encounter with the Lord, who strips himself of his divine glory for our sake, allows himself be humiliated to the point of death on the Cross and thus gives himself to each one of us.

The daily Eucharist is very important for the priest. In it he exposes himself ever anew to this mystery; ever anew he puts himself in God's hands, experiencing at the same time the joy of knowing that He is present, receives me, ever anew raises and supports me, gives me his hand, himself. The Eucharist must become for us a school of life in which we learn to give our lives.
Free for God

Life is not only given at the moment of death and not only in the manner of martyrdom. We must give it day by day. Day after day it is necessary to learn that I do not possess my life for myself. Day by day I must learn to abandon myself; to keep myself available for whatever he, the Lord, needs of me at a given moment, even if other things seem more appealing and more important to me:  it means giving life, not taking it.

It is in this very way that we experience freedom:  freedom from ourselves, the vastness of being. In this very way, by being useful, in being a person whom the world needs, our life becomes important and beautiful. Only those who give up their own life find it.

Secondly the Lord tells us:  "I know my own [sheep] and my own [sheep] know me, as the Father knows me and I know the Father" (Jn 10: 14-15).

Here, two apparently quite different relationships are interwoven in this phrase:  the relationship between Jesus and the Father and the relationship between Jesus and the people entrusted to him. Yet both these relationships go together, for in the end people belong to the Father and are in search of the Creator, of God.

When they realize that someone is speaking only in his own name and drawing from himself alone, they guess that he is too small and cannot be what they are seeking; but wherever another's voice re-echoes in a person, the voice of the Creator, of the Father, the door opens to the relationship for which the person is longing.

Consequently, this is how it must be in our case. First of all, in our hearts we must live the relationship with Christ and, through him, with the Father; only then can we truly understand people, only in the light of God can the depths of man be understood. Then those who are listening to us realize that we are not speaking of ourselves or of some thing, but of the true Shepherd.

Obviously, Jesus' words also contain the entire practical pastoral task, caring for men and women, going to seek them out, being open to their needs and questions.

Obviously, practical, concrete knowledge of the people entrusted to me is fundamental, and obviously, it is important to understand this way of "knowing" others in the biblical sense:  there is no true knowledge without love, without an inner relationship and deep acceptance of the other.
The shepherd cannot be satisfied with knowing names and dates. His way of knowing his sheep must always also be knowing with the heart.

However, it is only possible to do this properly if the Lord has opened our hearts; if our knowing does not bind people to our own small, private self, to our own small heart, but rather makes them aware of the Heart of Jesus, the Heart of the Lord. It must be knowing with the Heart of Jesus, oriented to him, a way of knowing that does not bind the person to me but guides him or her to Jesus, thereby making one free and open. And in this way we too will become close to men and women.

Let us always pray to the Lord anew that we may be granted this way of knowing with the Heart of Jesus, of not binding to me but of binding to the Heart of Jesus and thereby creating a true community.

Lastly, the Lord speaks to us of the service of unity that is entrusted to the shepherd:  "I have other sheep that are not of this fold; I must bring them also, and they will heed my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd" (Jn 10: 16).

John repeated the same thing after the Sanhedrin had decided to kill Jesus, when Caiaphas said that it would be better for the people that one man die for them rather than the entire nation perish. John recognized these words of Caiaphas as prophetic, adding:  "Jesus should die for the nation, and not for the nation only, but to gather into one the children of God who are scattered abroad" (11: 52).

The relationship between the Cross and unity is revealed:  the Cross is the price of unity. Above all, however, it is the universal horizon of Jesus' action that emerges.

If, in his prophecy about the shepherd, Ezekiel was aiming to restore unity among the dispersed tribes of Israel (cf. Ez 34: 22-24), here it is a question not only of the unification of a dispersed Israel but of the unification of all the children of God, of humanity - of the Church of Jews and of pagans.

Jesus' mission concerns all humanity. Therefore, the Church is given responsibility for all humanity, so that it may recognize God, the God who for all of us was made man in Jesus Christ, suffered, died and was raised.

The Church must never be satisfied with the ranks of those whom she has reached at a certain point or say that others are fine as they are:  Muslims, Hindus and so forth. The Church can never retreat comfortably to within the limits of her own environment. She is charged with universal solicitude; she must be concerned with and for one and all.

We generally have to "translate" this great task in our respective missions. Obviously, a priest, a pastor of souls, must first and foremost be concerned with those who believe and live with the Church, who seek in her their way of life and on their part, like living stones, build the Church, hence, also build and support the priest.

However, we must also - as the Lord says - go out ever anew "to the highways and hedges" (Lk 14: 23), to deliver God's invitation to his banquet also to those who have so far heard nothing or have not been stirred within.

This universal service has many forms. One of them is also the commitment to the inner unity of the Church, so that over and above differences and limitations she may be a sign of God's presence in the world, which alone can create this unity.

Among the sculptures of her time, the ancient Church discovered the figure of a shepherd carrying a sheep across his shoulders. Such images may perhaps be part of the idyllic dream of rural life that fascinated the society of that epoch.

For Christians, however, this figure with all its naturalness became the image of the One who set out to seek his lost sheep:  humanity; the image of the One who follows us even into our deserts and confusion; the image of the One who took upon his shoulders the lost sheep, which is humanity, and carried it home.

It has become the image of the true Shepherd, Jesus Christ. Let us entrust ourselves to him. We entrust you to him, dear brothers, especially at this moment, so that he may lead you and carry you all the days of your life; so that he may help you to become, through him and with him, good shepherds of his flock. Amen!

[Pope Benedict, presbyteral ordination homily 7 May 2006]

2. It may not always be conscious and clear, but in the human heart there is a deep nostalgia for God. St. Ignatius of Antioch expressed this eloquently: “There is in me a living water that murmurs within me: 'Come to the Father'” (Ad Rom.7). “Lord, show me your glory”, Moses begged on the mountain (Ex 33:18) [...].

Bringing us the direct witness of the life of the Son of God, John’s Gospel points out the road to follow in order to know the Father. Calling upon the “Father” is the secret, the breath, the life of Jesus. Is he not the only Son, the first-born, the loved one towards whom everything is directed, present to the Father even before the world existed, sharing in his same glory? (cf. Jn 17:5). From the Father Jesus receives power over all things (cf. Jn 17:2), the message to be proclaimed (cf. Jn 12:49), the work to be accomplished (cf. Jn 14:31). The disciples themselves do not belong to him: it is the Father who has given them to him (cf. Jn 17:9), entrusting him with the task of keeping them from evil, so that none should be lost (cf. Jn 18:9).

[Pope John Paul II, Message for the 14th WYD]

Today’s passage records these words of Jesus: “My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me; and I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish, and no one shall snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me is greater than all, and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father’s hand. I and the Father are one” (10:27-30). These four verses contain the whole of Jesus’ message; it is the nucleus of his Gospel: he calls us to share in his relationship with the Father, and this is eternal life.

Jesus wants to establish with his friends a relationship which mirrors his own relationship with the Father: a relationship of reciprocal belonging in full trust, in intimate communion. To express this profound understanding, this relationship of friendship, Jesus uses the image of the shepherd with his sheep: he calls them and they recognize his voice, they respond to his call and follow him. This parable is very beautiful! The mystery of his voice is evocative: only think that from our mother’s womb we learn to recognize her voice and that of our father; it is from the tone of a voice that we perceive love or contempt, affection or coldness. Jesus’ voice is unique! If we learn to distinguish it, he guides us on the path of life, a path that goes beyond even the abyss of death.

However Jesus, at a certain point, said: “my Father, who has given them to me...” (Jn 10:29), referring to his sheep. This is very important, it is a profound mystery, far from easy to understand. If I feel drawn to Jesus, if his voice warms my heart, it is thanks to God the Father who has sown within me the desire for love, for truth, for life, for beauty... and Jesus is all this in fullness! This helps us understand the mystery of vocation and especially of the call to a special consecration. Sometimes Jesus calls us, he invites us to follow him, but perhaps we do not realize that it is he who is calling, like what happened to the young Samuel. There are many young people today, here in the Square. There are large numbers of you aren’t there? It’s clear.... Look! Here in the Square today there are so many of you! I would like to ask you: have you sometimes heard the Lord’s voice, in a desire, in a worry, did he invite you to follow him more closely? Have you heard him? I can’t hear you? There! Have you wanted to be apostles of Jesus? We must bet on youth for the great ideals. Do you think this? Do you agree? Ask Jesus what he wants of you and be brave! Be brave! Ask him this!

Behind and before every vocation to the priesthood or to the consecrated life there is always the strong and intense prayer of someone: a grandmother, a grandfather, a mother, a father, a community.... This is why Jesus said: “Pray therefore the Lord of the harvest”, that is, God the Father, “to send out labourers into his harvest” (Mt 9:38). Vocations are born in prayer and from prayer; and only through prayer can they persevere and bear fruit.

[Pope Francis, Regina Coeli 21 April 2013]

Third Easter Sunday (year A) [19 April 2026] 

*First Reading from the Acts of the Apostles (2:4, 22b–33)

The same Peter who, out of fear, had denied Jesus during his trial and who, after his death, had been holed up with the other disciples in a locked room, we find today, just fifty days later, standing and delivering an impromptu speech before thousands of people; and if Luke notes that he is standing, it is because the posture is symbolic: in a sense, Peter is awakening, coming back to life, rising up. Before going any further, it should be noted that up to this point Peter had not been a model of boldness, and yet it is precisely to him that Jesus now entrusts the boldest of missions: to continue the work of evangelisation, a mission that cost the Son of God himself his life, and the man who not long before had denied the Master will soon rejoice in being persecuted.  This entirely new strength, this boldness, Peter does not draw from himself, but is a gift from God. Let us return to that Pentecost morning in the year of Jesus’ death, when Jerusalem was teeming with people: they were pilgrims who had come from all over for the festival because, just like Peter and the other apostles of Jesus, they shared the hope of Israel, and it is on this hope that Peter relies to proclaim that the long-awaited Messiah has come and that we have had the privilege of knowing him. Peter emphasises in his speech the continuity of God’s work, which for him is a crucial point, and invokes the testimony of Psalm 15/16. His listeners are the least prepared to accept his words precisely because, having always awaited the Messiah, they have had time to form their own ideas about him—human ideas—and God cannot help but surprise our human ideas. One of the most unacceptable aspects of the mystery of Jesus for his contemporaries is his death on the cross: on Good Friday, Jesus, abandoned by all, truly seemed cursed by God himself, and so how could he be the Messiah? On Easter evening, the apostles realised that he was indeed the Messiah because they had witnessed his Resurrection.  Peter concludes by appealing to his listeners, telling them that if they have not been direct witnesses of the Resurrection, the only possible experience is that of seeing and hearing the twelve apostles transformed by the Holy Spirit

*Responsorial Psalm (15/16)

In the verses of Psalm 15/16, which are set before us today, some phrases seem to convey perfect happiness and everything appears so simple. The psalmist declares: ‘Lord, you are my God; I have made you my refuge; I have no good apart from you.’ In other verses, however, one senses the echo of danger, and Israel pleads, asking not to be abandoned to death nor to be allowed to see corruption. Here lies all the joy of Israel when the heart rejoices, the soul is in celebration because the Lord is ‘my portion and my cup, and I have no good apart from you’. Here Israel is likened to a Levite, to a priest who dwells ceaselessly in the temple of God and lives in intimacy with Him. The expression “Lord, my portion and my cup; upon You my lot depends” is an allusion to when the division of the land of Israel among the tribes of Jacob’s descendants was made by lot. At that time, the members of the tribe of Levi had not received a portion of land: their portion was the House of God, that is, service in the Temple, service to God, and their entire lives were consecrated to worship. They therefore had no territory, and their livelihood was secured by tithes and a portion of the harvests and meat offered in sacrifice. This also helps us understand the other verse of this psalm, which we do not hear today, where the psalmist says, ‘My portion makes me glad; I truly have the finest inheritance’. The Levites guarded the Temple day and night, and this is alluded to when the psalm notes, ‘even at night my heart instructs me’. In this psalm, one also senses the echo of danger, and the plea, ‘you cannot abandon me to death, nor let your holy one see corruption’, conveys the often-suffered tribulations of the chosen people.  The opening plea for help, ‘Preserve me, O God, for in you I take refuge’, and the repeated expressions of trust suggest a period when, indeed, trust was hard to come by, and this cry for help is at the same time a profession of faith, for it reflects the struggle against idolatry to remain faithful to the one God. In another verse of the psalm we read that all the idols of the land never cease to spread their harm, and people rush to follow them. This shows that Israel sometimes succumbed to idolatry but made a commitment not to fall back into it, and the statement ‘I have made you, my God, my only refuge’ conveys this resolve. We can then appreciate how eloquent the image of the Levite is, for it is a way of saying that by choosing to remain faithful to the true God, the people of Israel made the true choice that brings them into intimacy with God, and Israel’s trust inspires such striking phrases as ‘eternity of delights’ or ‘you cannot abandon me to death, nor let your friend see corruption’. One might wonder whether, when the psalm was written, there was already, albeit in a confused form, a first glimmer of faith in the Resurrection, even though we know that belief in individual resurrection appeared very late in Israel. Here it seems rather that the focus is on the people whose survival is in danger because of their succumbing to idolatry. But they are convinced that God will not abandon them, and that is why they affirm: ‘You cannot abandon me to death, nor let your friend see corruption’. Around the second century BC, when belief in the resurrection of each of us began to take hold, the phrase ‘you will not abandon me to death, nor let your friend see decay’ was understood in this sense, and later Christians reinterpreted this psalm in their own way, as we heard in the first reading. On the morning of Pentecost, Peter quoted this psalm to the Jewish pilgrims who had come in great numbers to Jerusalem for the feast, to show them that Jesus was truly the Messiah. He recalled that when David composed this psalm, without realising it, he was already announcing the Resurrection of the Messiah. Here we have an example of the first Christian preaching addressed to Jews, that is, how the first apostles reinterpreted Jewish tradition, discovering within it a new dimension: the proclamation of Jesus Christ. Over the centuries, this psalm has carried the prayer of Israel in its expectation of the Messiah, becoming enriched with new meanings; yet it was the first Christian generation that discovered and demonstrated that the Scriptures find their full meaning in Jesus Christ.

*Second Reading from the First Letter of the Apostle Peter (1:17–21)

In the first reading from the Acts of the Apostles, we read Peter’s speech on the morning of Pentecost, a model of the first Christian preaching addressed to Jews. Here, however, in Peter’s letter, we see a sermon addressed to pagans—non-Jews who had become Christians—and it is obvious that the discourse is not the same, for it is the ABC of communication to adapt one’s language to the audience. And even though we do not know exactly to whom the letter is addressed—since in the opening lines Peter merely states that he is writing to the elect living as strangers in the five provinces of present-day Turkey, Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia and Bithynia, what suggests they were not of Jewish origin is the phrase ‘you have been redeemed from the futile ways inherited from your fathers’. Peter, being Jewish himself, would not say such a thing to Jews, knowing all too well what hope runs through the Scriptures and how the whole life of his people is directed towards God. What strikes the eye in this simple passage is the striking number of allusions to the Bible, with expressions such as the blood of the Lamb without blemish or spot, the Father who judges impartially, and the fear of God; and if Peter uses them without explaining them, it is because his audience is familiar with them. But this is only possible if they are non-Jews. The most likely hypothesis is that many sympathisers gathered around the synagogues, and among them a significant number of those called ‘God-fearing’, who were so close to Judaism that they observed the Sabbath; they listened to all the synagogue readings on Saturday mornings, and consequently knew the Hebrew Scriptures well but had never gone so far as to ask for circumcision. It is thought that the early Christians were recruited mainly from among them, and it is worth returning to two expressions in Peter’s letter that may strike us as odd if we do not place them in their biblical context.  First of all, the expression ‘fear of God’ has a particular meaning precisely because God revealed himself to his people as Father. The fear of God, therefore, is not fear but a filial attitude made up of tenderness, respect, veneration and total trust, and Peter says that since you call upon God as your Father, you live in the fear of God by behaving as children. If you call upon as Father the One who judges everyone impartially according to their deeds, you therefore live in the fear of God. From Peter’s emphasis on the One who judges everyone impartially according to their deeds, we can surmise that some of these new Christians, coming from paganism, felt inferior to Christians of Jewish origin, and Peter therefore wishes to reassure them by saying, in essence: you are children just like the others; simply behave as children. The second phrase that might cause offence is: ‘you have been redeemed by the precious blood of Christ’. The risk is of seeing this as a horrendous bartering, without being able to say clearly between whom and whom. But reading Peter’s sentence in full – “not with perishable things such as silver or gold were you redeemed from the empty way of life handed down to you from your forefathers, but with the precious blood of Christ, a lamb without blemish or defect” – two things become clear: firstly, this is not a matter of bartering; our liberation is free, and Peter takes care to say ‘not with gold or silver’, a way of saying it is free. Secondly, Peter does not place the emphasis where we do, because the blood of a lamb without blemish or defect is the blood that was shed every year at Passover and which marked Israel’s liberation from all forms of slavery.  This blood that was shed heralded God’s ongoing work to free his people and, for a reader familiar with the Old Testament, is a reference to the feast of freedom—a freedom on the journey towards the Promised Land. But now, Peter notes, definitive liberation has been accomplished in Jesus Christ. We have now entered   a new life better than the Promised Land, and this liberation consists precisely in calling upon God as Father. We can then better understand  the phrase: you have been redeemed, that is, freed from the superficial way of life inherited from your fathers; ‘superficial’ here means that it leads nowhere, as opposed to eternal life. Since the Son lived as a man in trust until the end, it is all of humanity that has rediscovered the path of a filial attitude. Ultimately, it is a matter of having rediscovered the path to the tree of life, to use the image from Genesis. Paul would say: you have passed from the slave’s attitude of fear and mistrust to the filial reverence proper to children.

*From the Gospel according to Luke (24:13–35)

Note the parallel between these two phrases: their eyes were prevented from recognising him, and then their eyes were opened; this means that the two disciples of Emmaus passed from the deepest discouragement to enthusiasm simply because their eyes were opened. Why were they opened? Because Jesus explained the Scriptures to them, and beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he interpreted in all the Scriptures what concerned him. This means that Jesus Christ is at the centre of God’s plan revealed in Scripture. The Old Testament must not, however, be reduced to a mere backdrop for the New, because to read the prophets as if they were announcing only the historical coming of Jesus Christ is to betray the Old Testament and strip it of all its historical depth, given that the Old Testament is the testimony of God’s long-suffering patience in revealing himself to his people and enabling them to live in his Covenant. The words of the prophets, for example, apply first and foremost to the era in which they were spoken, and we must not forget that reading Jesus Christ as the centre of human history and therefore also of Scripture is a Christian interpretation. The Jews have a different one, and we Jews and Christians agree in invoking God the Father of all mankind and in reading in the Old Testament the long wait for the Messiah, but let us not forget that recognising Jesus as the Messiah is not self-evident; it becomes so for those whose eyes are somehow opened and whose hearts consequently burn within them, just as those of the disciples of Emmaus did. It would be wonderful to know all the biblical texts that Jesus went through with the two disciples of Emmaus. We do know, however, that at the end of this biblical journey Jesus concludes by asking: ‘Was it not necessary for the Christ to suffer these things and enter into his glory?’ This phrase presents a real difficulty for us because it lends itself to two possible interpretations. The first possible interpretation is “it was necessary for the Christ to suffer in order to deserve to enter into his glory”, as if there were a requirement on the part of the Father; but this interpretation betrays the Scriptures because it presents Jesus’ relationship with the Father in terms of merit, which is not at all in keeping with the Old Testament revelation that Jesus developed. God is nothing but Love, Gift and Forgiveness, and with Him it is not a matter of balance, merit, arithmetic or calculation. It is also true that the New Testament often speaks of the fulfilment of the Scriptures, but not in this sense. There is, however, a second way of reading this phrase: ‘it was necessary for the Christ to suffer in order to enter into his glory’: the glory of God is his presence manifested to us. Now we know that God is Love. One could rephrase the sentence thus: ‘it was necessary for the Christ to suffer’ so that God’s love might be manifested and revealed. Jesus himself gave a foreshadowing of his death when he said to his disciples, ‘There is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for those one loves’. It was therefore necessary for love to go that far, to the point of facing hatred, abandonment and death, so that we might discover that God’s love is the greatest love, so that we might discover how far God’s love goes—so far beyond our own way of loving and so unimaginable in the true sense of the word. It was necessary for it to be revealed to us, and for it to be revealed, it had to go that far. “It was necessary” does not therefore mean a requirement on God’s part, but a necessity for us; and to say that the events of Jesus’ life fulfil the Scriptures is to say that his entire life is a revelation in action of this love of the Father, whatever the circumstances, including persecution, hatred, condemnation and death. The Resurrection of Jesus authenticates this revelation: this love is stronger than death.

+Giovanni D’Ercole

Thoughts on food

Several things prompted me to reflect on this.

One was a film broadcast by Rai 1 on 2 April 2026 (Maundy Thursday) on the subject of eating disorders. The film was called “Something Lilac.”

It is the story of a teenager who struggles with eating disorders, although the film focuses mainly on bulimia. The main eating disorders are anorexia and bulimia.

Another inspiration was seeing someone again at the centre who had suffered from these problems in the past and whom I had supported psychologically.

Finally, about a month ago, a lady I had known for years and who had long been troubled by these issues passed away. She wouldn’t listen to anyone; she ‘wasted away to the bone’.

And so, as with all my short articles, I ‘dredged up’ the theoretical knowledge I’d acquired over the years, combined with my observations of cases at work.

The issue of food is important for all living beings. If we do not eat, we do not live.

But here too, as in all situations in life, striking the right balance is not always easy.

The ideal approach is to eat without excesses that could cause metabolic disorders, and in such a way that our body functions well.

Sometimes, for various reasons, human beings alter their relationship with food. Think of the periods when people suffered from food shortages due to wars, epidemics, or other causes.

Cases of self-imposed fasting are also described in the Bible, but it was around 1600 that cases of significant weight loss due to diet began to be observed.

In contrast to the time of the ancient Romans, when they would indulge in huge feasts followed by self-induced vomiting – if I recall correctly, they would tickle their palates with a feather to induce vomiting and then start eating again.

The history of eating disorders is not a modern phenomenon, but has its roots in distant times.

In the Middle Ages, fasting was often associated with demonic possession, or conversely with mystical behaviour.

‘Mystics’ would fast to purify the body, draw as close as possible to God, and sometimes to withdraw from earthly life. Unlike the disorder seen today, the motivation was not beauty, but the aspiration to holiness.

Nowadays, distorted relationships with food are recognised as complex disorders, influenced by cultural and psychological factors.                                  

These are serious disorders, often interlinked, and requiring treatment by various specialists.  In short, anorexia involves a profound fear of gaining weight, stemming from a distorted perception of one’s own body.

Bulimia involves overeating followed by vomiting or self-induced purging – to prevent weight gain.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       

Such issues are more prevalent in industrialised cultures, where there is a higher standard of living and the idea of being attractive is associated with thinness.

Through the media, the idea of physical perfection has also reached less developed cultures, fostering a desire for physical attractiveness; which would not be a bad thing, were it not for the harm it causes to the body.

Nor should we overlook the influence of cultural role models; such as extremely thin models who trigger a desire to be like them – sometimes at any cost.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             And here I recall that years ago, there was a proposal to make figures such as the Barbie doll ‘put on weight’, to correct the image she unconsciously conveyed. 

Until recently, it was mostly young people and women who were affected by such eating disorders. Lately, however, the issue has also come to affect men.

In my professional practice, I have encountered such issues. I have carried out various psychodiagnostic assessments where the main problems were eating disorders, even in very young individuals. 

These were mostly female subjects, but I have also encountered a few male adolescents.

In psychotherapeutic treatment, working alongside other professionals, I have dealt with a few cases of anorexia in young girls, whilst the few cases of bulimia I have encountered were in older women.

This is in line with the theoretical principles that situate anorexia in early adolescence and bulimia in late adolescence or early adulthood.

I recall that the thin girls were always restless, worried and tormented, whilst the more ‘full-figured’ women were cheerful, sometimes even friendly. One of them was even able to joke about her considerable weight. 

The progression of these conditions can vary; some are severe and can compromise general health – and there is a risk of mortality. 

People with anorexia generally tend to be somewhat more stubborn; they may refuse not only food but also new experiences, and adopt a closed-off attitude; people with bulimia mainly exhibit ‘emotional volatility’, moments of anger and emptiness that they unconsciously try to fill with food.

Emotionally, these people may feel anxious, may be impulsive, and may experience shame. Anorexics are ashamed of their bodies, which they always perceive as enormous; bulimics are distressed by their lack of control, which sometimes extends beyond eating habits.

The characteristics of these issues are kept hidden for a long time. In doing so, they make it difficult to form a genuine relationship with others, with sufferers usually appearing more immature and superficial.

These people are united  in an exaggerated way by a hunger for care and affection. They have an immense fear of being abandoned, and that other people might stop loving them.

But it is a question of  ‘how strong this feeling is’, because everyone  wants to be loved; they want to have a healthy relationship based on trust and mutual respect.

Intellectually, those with eating disorders may exhibit rigid thinking and a distorted perception of their body’s condition; in less severe cases, there remains a dissatisfaction with their physical appearance or certain parts of it.

In more severe cases, body image and how it is experienced often impairs their ability to assess reality.

Dr Francesco Giovannozzi  Psychologist – Psychotherapist

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

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

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

*Responsorial Psalm (117/118)  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

+Giovanni D’Ercole