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

Jn 20:19-31 (24-31)

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

How to believe without having seen?

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

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

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

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

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

Thomas is not afraid to stand outside the barred doors.

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

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

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

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

Distractions were many.

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

Under Domitian, believers suffered social marginalization, discrimination.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So is there any evidence that Jesus lives?

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

«Twins» of Him and of Thomas.

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

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

We too want to «see» Him.

[2nd Easter Sunday (of Divine Mercy), April 12, 2026]

(Jn 20:19-31)

The Manifestation, the Spirit, the remission

(Jn 20:19-23)

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

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

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

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

"Resurrection of the flesh" is not equivalent to the improvement of previous conditions. From a man [as from a seed] there has blossomed a form of life that subsists in God himself.

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

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

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

The heavenly world no longer remains that of religions. It is not exclusive, nor fanciful or abstract; neither is it sterilised.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Inwardly, humanity found itself united and torn between intuition and desire for goodness, and inability to implement it (cf. Rom 7:15-19).

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

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

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

On Easter Day the prophecies were fulfilled.

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

We are at the origin of a new humanity of mothers and fathers who generate - now able to make only life appear, eliminating death from the face of the earth.

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

He conveys a resourceful, clear, alternative, self-confident energy that spontaneously impels to goodness.

Where this Spirit comes, sin is annihilated.

It was the first ecclesial experience: the unmistakable action of divine power, which became present and operative in fearful and unregarded people.

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

So far, the concept of forgiveness of sins was missing in Jn. But the meaning of the expression in v.23 is not strictly sacramental.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Victory of the Risen One, Church of free people

Without hysteria

(Jn 20:24-31)

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

How could one believe without having seen?

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

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

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

We must go deeper than the immediate experience.

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

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

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

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

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

For He does not lead the way, but repeatedly 'in between' (vv.19.26).

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

He expounds on the witnessing experiences of the first churches (morning and evening, and eight days later) and of the disciples who accepted the missionary mandate.

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

Nor does it follow that we are willing to gamble our lives, to build a kingdom with values reversed from the common, ancient, imperial religious values.

By the time the Thomas episode is written, the dimension of the eighth day [Dies Domini] already had a prevailing configuration, as opposed to the radically Judaizing early Messianic Sabbath.

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

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

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

The wounds are part of the character of the Risen One.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As if the identity of the Crucified and Risen Jesus was no problem at all!

And in the Fourth Gospel, the concept of 'forgiveness of sins' has so far been missing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thomas is not afraid to stand outside the barred doors.

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

In this sense it is 'said twin' [δίδυμο] of each one - and of Jesus.

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

Ephesus in particular had hundreds of thousands of inhabitants.

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

There were many distractions.

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

Under Domitian, believers also suffered marginalisation and discrimination.

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

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

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

People were surprised and challenged in their ability to think and debate.

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

Not indoctrinated and plagiarised gullible people - or spineless sophisticates.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Is there, then, evidence that Jesus lives?

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

Souls endowed with the capacity for autonomous thought. "His and Thomas' 'twins'.

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

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

We too want to 'see' Him.

Christ is risen! Peace to you! Today we celebrate the great mystery, the foundation of Christian faith and hope: Jesus of Nazareth, the Crucified One, has risen from the dead on the third day according to the Scriptures. We listen today with renewed emotion to the announcement proclaimed by the angels on the dawn of the first day after the Sabbath, to Mary of Magdala and to the women at the sepulchre: “Why do you search among the dead for one who is alive? He is not here, he is risen!” (Lk 24:5-6).

It is not difficult to imagine the feelings of these women at that moment: feelings of sadness and dismay at the death of their Lord, feelings of disbelief and amazement before a fact too astonishing to be true. But the tomb was open and empty: the body was no longer there. Peter and John, having been informed of this by the women, ran to the sepulchre and found that they were right. The faith of the Apostles in Jesus, the expected Messiah, had been submitted to a severe trial by the scandal of the cross. At his arrest, his condemnation and death, they were dispersed. Now they are together again, perplexed and bewildered. But the Risen One himself comes in response to their thirst for greater certainty. This encounter was not a dream or an illusion or a subjective imagination; it was a real experience, even if unexpected, and all the more striking for that reason. “Jesus came and stood among them and said to them, ‘peace be with you!’” (Jn 20:19).

At these words their faith, which was almost spent within them, was re-kindled. The Apostles told Thomas who had been absent from that first extraordinary encounter: Yes, the Lord has fulfilled all that he foretold; he is truly risen and we have seen and touched him! Thomas however remained doubtful and perplexed. When Jesus came for a second time, eight days later in the Upper Room, he said to him: “put your finger here and see my hands; and put out your hand and place it in my side; do not be faithless, but believing!” The Apostle’s response is a moving profession of faith: “My Lord and my God!” (Jn 20:27-28).

“My Lord and my God!” We too renew that profession of faith of Thomas. I have chosen these words for my Easter greetings this year, because humanity today expects from Christians a renewed witness to the resurrection of Christ; it needs to encounter him and to know him as true God and true man. If we can recognize in this Apostle the doubts and uncertainties of so many Christians today, the fears and disappointments of many of our contemporaries, with him we can also rediscover with renewed conviction, faith in Christ dead and risen for us. This faith, handed down through the centuries by the successors of the Apostles, continues on because the Risen Lord dies no more. He lives in the Church and guides it firmly towards the fulfilment of his eternal design of salvation.

We may all be tempted by the disbelief of Thomas. Suffering, evil, injustice, death, especially when it strikes the innocent such as children who are victims of war and terrorism, of sickness and hunger, does not all of this put our faith to the test? Paradoxically the disbelief of Thomas is most valuable to us in these cases because it helps to purify all false concepts of God and leads us to discover his true face: the face of a God who, in Christ, has taken upon himself the wounds of injured humanity. Thomas has received from the Lord, and has in turn transmitted to the Church, the gift of a faith put to the test by the passion and death of Jesus and confirmed by meeting him risen. His faith was almost dead but was born again thanks to his touching the wounds of Christ, those wounds that the Risen One did not hide but showed, and continues to point out to us in the trials and sufferings of every human being.

“By his wounds you have been healed” (1 Pt 2:24). This is the message Peter addressed to the early converts. Those wounds that, in the beginning were an obstacle for Thomas’s faith, being a sign of Jesus’ apparent failure, those same wounds have become in his encounter with the Risen One, signs of a victorious love. These wounds that Christ has received for love of us help us to understand who God is and to repeat: “My Lord and my God!” Only a God who loves us to the extent of taking upon himself our wounds and our pain, especially innocent suffering, is worthy of faith.

[Pope Benedict, Urbi et Orbi blessing 8 April 2007]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Mk 16:9-15)

Despite difficulties in believing, disciples are made heralds of the News of God.

Glad Tidings favourable to humanity that intends to travel towards itself - without the baggage of the overwhelming accumulations of tradition, or the conditioning of fashions.

Jesus brings out the transmutative capacities already endowed to each one.

His proposal supplants the oppressive yoke of the external perfections preached by the old religion; replaced precisely with our simple family virtues, grasped from within.

Not: proselytise, set up, fight, but 'welcoming'. Not: 'obey' God, but 'resemble' Him by being oneself; and so on.

The church should not have become an ethical communion of heroes and saints; rather, of sinners and undecideds.

Indeed, the story of the unbelieving apostles comforts us: we are already authorised, and with aptitude for the fullness. But in its reversal.

It is indeed in the overthrowing that we have learned about listening to emotions. Also the need to grasp and understand pain.

And do not fear solitude, the key to accessing the treasures of one's eccentricity and Vocation by Name.

The first-generation churches were small realities lost in the immensity of the empire. Minimal communities «in the midst» of the vastness of a world marked by different principles.

Popular fraternities animated by a passion that made them a visible evidence and Manifestation of the Risen One life.

The spirit of the origins was the only proof and recognition possibility of the Christ.

Then, to defend themselves against criticism, lists of “apparitions” began to appear, but only from the second generation of believers.

Does He no longer appear today? No, He still «manifests» himself in his people.

That is the whole point.

The difficulty in accepting the convincing signs of the Presence of Jesus and his own Spirit can be overcome.

Not with organisation, which weakens uniqueness. One does not live here. Not with perfectionism, which boycotts the expression of our qualities.

But through the conviviality of differences, and by announcing «to all» the «good news» (v.15): the Lord goes beyond the experience of what is already known.

«Go you ones!»: if we do not make an Exodus, we do not unleash the Spirit. One must not get lost in the search for external consensus.

It is within a non-selective Path that we learn to transform our hardships into valuable resources to face the future.

The Glad Tidings to be proclaimed are: the Father is loving; He wants to care.

Exactly the opposite of what the false leaders of both Judaism and any culture of the empire preached.

Not a leech God who depersonalises; instead, a Father who gives.

Not the God of religion, who waits for the reckoning. The Almighty in the love accentuates transmutations.

He is Root of Being and founding Relation. Gift that ceaselessly Comes to activate the exuberance of our flourishing.

Not a grey Legislator and formal Judge, who imposes rules or punishes - to keep everyone in check.

The Eternal One invites and transmits his own surplus - even discordant - to merge with each one, and dilate aspects, resources, different faces. Possibilities of realisation for everybody.

Unthinkable, before Jesus.

To internalise and live the message:

What do you announce with your life? Does it go beyond direct experience?

How do you point out exuberant paths of hope? Or are you selective and silent?

[Saturday between the Octave of Easter, April 11, 2026]

(Mk 16:9-15)

"How universal is the great Way! Can be on the left as well as the right" [Tao Tê Ching (xxxiv)].

Despite their difficulty in believing, the disciples are made heralds of the News of God.

Glad tidings favourable to mankind that intends to journey towards itself - without the baggage of the overwhelming accumulations of tradition, or the conditioning of fashions.

Jesus brings out the transmutative capacities already in the dowry of each one, for communion with God and one's brothers and sisters, in the journey of life and the sense of rebirth that lurks therein.

His Person and story teaches us that all this develops after pain, travails, experiences of rejection, thoughts of failure and death ... [for us today, also in reference to new arrangements, or global crises, war, health emergencies].

In such a seemingly inverted perspective, his proposal supplants the oppressive yoke of the external perfections preached by religion; replaced by our own simple family virtues, grasped from within.

Not: proselytising, setting up, fighting, but 'welcoming'. Not to 'obey' God, but to 'resemble' Him by being oneself; so on.

The Church should not have become an ethical communion of heroes and saints, but of sinners and undecideds.

Indeed, the story of the unbelieving apostles comforts us: we are already empowered, and with aptitude for fullness. But in its reversal.

It is the resurrection that sends us among men, precisely to be regenerated; just like us.

So the condition of the 'apostle' weaves its roots into the little by little of concrete existence.

It is not subjected to the usual doctrinal, moral, devotional rigmarole of great things; it is no longer delayed in being assumed.

Despite the fact that self-belief remains fragile, we continually experience regeneration from our wreckage - at best still bringing the entire organism of the spirit, and the inner universe, into being.

All this shapes a different consciousness of inadequacy: the one in the Faith - only positive, which understands the brothers and knows how to justify the resistance to the Announcement.

For it is in the recovery of surprises, opposites and contradictions that we have become - in our own - experts in difficulty.

In this way, more able to perceive discomfort; even feeling drained - as a preparatory energetic state.

Then we have learnt the listening to emotions: even the feeling of being overwhelmed - even in ideas.

As well as the need to grasp or lose oneself in sorrows, even unbearable ones.

And not fearing solitude, the key to accessing the treasures of one's own eccentricity and Calling by Name.

In short, for the purpose of vocational fulfilment, everyone is already perfect.

In its bearer of dissimilar energies, it just has to learn to meet the sides of itself that it has not yet given space to.

As if within us we have a multiplicity of 'faces' - often all to be discovered, behind some shell that resists.

They are malleable energies, powers, other arrangements; occasions that complement, and infallibly lead to personal and social blossoming.

Here we pass from death-resurrection experience to true witness, in the spontaneous frankness of having been enabled as evangelisers.

Which surprises us. But now the Message makes a body with ourselves.

A call for peace, however explosive - unbelievable, and we see this more from the limits (now nothing to fear) than from the ability to set up cathedrals and showcases.

After Christ, one no longer has to 'improve' in the common sense.

There is no waiting and purpose à la page, or looking to and drinking from the fountain of the past. They then place us back in the same predictable situation as always.

For the shaky disciples, religion was self-denial at its core.

Conversely, the vocation became the development of what each person was in his or her innermost being, and had not given himself or herself: the path of self-realisation in contributing to the brothers.

The only convincing weapon is genuineness: frankness that burns within to make us unconscious and incomplete, yet living, shrines.

Only way to meet souls.

The churches of the first generation were small realities lost in the immensity of the empire. Minimal communities 'in the midst' of the vastness of a world marked by different principles.

Popular fraternities animated by a passion that made them a visible witness and manifestation of the life of the Risen One.

The spirit of the origins was the only proof and possibility of recognition of Christ.

Then, to defend themselves against criticism, lists of 'apparitions' began to appear, but only from the second generation of believers.

Does it no longer appear today? No, he still manifests himself in his people.

This is the whole game.

The difficulty in accepting the convincing signs of the Presence of Jesus and his own Spirit can be overcome.

Not with organisation, which weakens uniqueness. There is no living here. Not with perfectionism, which boycotts the expression of our qualities.

But through the conviviality of differences, and by announcing "to all" the "good news" (v.15) that the Lord goes beyond the experience of what is already known.

"Go": if one does not do Exodus, one does not unleash the Spirit. We must not lose ourselves in the search for external consensus.

It is within a non-selective Path that we learn to transform our discomforts into valuable resources to face the future.

The Good News to be proclaimed is: the Father is loving; he wants to care.

Exactly the opposite of what the false leaders of both Judaism and any culture of the empire preached.

Not a leech God who depersonalises; conversely, a Father who gives.

Not the God of religion, who waits for the reckoning. For he accentuates transmutations.

He is the Root of Being and the Founding Relation. Gift that ceaselessly comes to activate the exuberance of flourishing.

Not a grey Lawgiver and compassionate Judge, who imposes rules or punishes - to keep everyone in check.

The Eternal One invites and transmits his own surplus - even discordant - to merge, and dilate aspects, resources, dissimilar faces. Possibility of realisation for each one.

Unthinkable, before Jesus.

To internalise and live the message:

How do you overcome doubt, retreating? What do you announce with your life? Does it go beyond direct experience? Do you know realities that manifest the Risen One? How do you point out exuberant paths of hope? Or are you selective and silent?

The Victory of the Risen One is his People, in the care of creation

[Gospel of the Conversion of St Paul].

(Mk 16:15-18)

Paul - who is us - manages to free himself from the fetters of subservience to an antiquated and selective religion. Discover the joy of living.

Strict tradition is supplanted, along with all its false and empty ideal of perfection (individualist or circle).

He sees opportunity, fully. He encounters and intuits the best, which persuades him to throw himself into the risk of a life of Faith.

He recognises the Love that well disposes, humanises, intimately convinces because it recovers, reintegrates and makes differences and opposites convivial.

Here he discovers the authentic divine trait. Qualities that surpass the pharisaic - only sterilising - purity norms he had hastily adhered to.

All this dismantles him, makes him experience another Kingdom, which conveys a different Vision - with no more impossible conditions of indefectibility.

The fraternal experience of the Lord's intimates compels him: he feels he must collapse from the empyrean in which he had placed himself.

He falls not from his horse, but from the artificial pedestals of inherited belief - which did not encourage him to grow, from within.

He experiences the active dynamics of a grace that does not overpower; undeserved and prevenient - that takes the first step.

He finds it even in his own lacerated inner life, and in the attentive, hospitable character of the first communities: he is fascinated by them.

Of course, the sudden 'conversion' can affect him in turn in a way that is just as radical, passionate... and opposite to the 'starchy' choices.

The excessive, dizzying sense - perhaps otherwise one-sided, 'reformers' - can be typical of reversals from the previous plastered conformity.

And it can again become one-sided.

But indeed, as a sign of his Presence, Jesus left a free spirit.

Not vintage catwalks, nor festivals. Not even fantasies of an abstract, cerebral, disembodied world.

Not a fixed ideology, nor a relic - or particularly dedicated places and times.

In such openness, which unleashes the Spirit, we all recognise ourselves today.

Namely: in the spirit of the Exodus and in the adventurous afflatus of the Apostle of the Gentiles, who everywhere and to everyone proposed the Risen One.

He is truly Living in the work of his People who evangelise without ceasing or fence (v.15) - but to the extent that they leap from the idol of distinction to the conviviality of differences.

From oppositions and reversals, to Communion. Which is not a torrent in flood, nor a shouted attitude, because it makes room for better understanding, valuing other points of view.

The task appears grandiose and would seem to be beyond our strength, but in the meantime we can initiate a new atmosphere by living in a less distracted manner; precisely, by proclaiming "to every creature" (v.15).

The expression contains the invitation to open the horizons of salvation also to the whole of creation - of which we are not the masters.

After decades of land plundering, and just as the world of devotions has moved on indifferently, perhaps we begin to understand that God is calling us to be custodians, not predators.[Called to a totally different quality of relationship from the opportunist one we have had before our eyes and perhaps helped to perpetrate - just while the churches were still packed, drowsing consciences, as well as many vital energies].

In short, the Risen One activates a new way, place and time: both to meet ourselves and people, and plants and animals.

The proclamation of Salvation that we are invited to proclaim continues with other very practical "signs" and messages, which, however, have nothing to do with competing with magicians and soothsayers (vv.17-18).

Unfortunately, the meaning of these lines interpreted by ear runs the risk of locking the crowds into that misunderstanding that can insinuate a whole way of thinking and a style anchored to the torment of conventional spirituality, empty of content and incisiveness.

In fact, we are still passionate about the search for visions, demonstrative prodigies and religion-show phenomena.

We have behind us a corpus of history that, from the second century onwards, has sought to impose an apologetic conception of 'miracles': utterly cheap shots of lightning and today grounds for righteous rejection.

In essence, the "preaching of the Gospel" is not about grim things, or about exceptionalities (though plausible here and there).

Rather, it is a work of wide-ranging humanisation, thanks to which people abandon the aggressive and dangerous aspect of their nature.

This happens to this day, in favour of encounter and dialogue.

The forces of self-destruction and death are driven out - not by punctual, lightning prodigy, but by a process of content assimilation, strong friendship, exodus, and realisation.

Often the spiritual accompaniment of the Word and of an authentic community help people to free themselves from the obsessions of unworthiness that block life - and thus to discover personality sides and unexpressed powers.

As a commentary on the Tao Tê Ching (XLVII), Master Ho-shang Kung writes: 'The saint [...] from his own person knows the person of others, from his own family knows the family of others: from these he looks at the world'.

A completely new language blossoms in such a climate: that of welcoming and sensitive listening, the first step towards a new communication.

For example, it allows us to shift our gaze, to acquire knowledge, to get to know people we had not imagined, to frequent other regions and cultures; and so on.

The 'poisons' - even those that are not easy to identify - are rendered harmless, not because we pass over them and pretend they do not exist. We are not called to be disassociated.

He simply takes note of his own vocational character and the varied inclinations of others. Nothing that is human is only 'lethal' (v.18).

Thus - by letting everyone follow their own nature - we become mutually tolerant and richer, improving coexistence; without hysteria or mannerisms.

On such a vital wave, unparalleled attention to the weak, the sick, the marginalised can appear everywhere.

A wise natural attitude of caring for the least, no longer forced or imposed, but spontaneous and forthright.

Quite naturally, it is precisely the weak who are now enabled to become the centre of the family, of groups, of ministerial activity.

An institution of service, the new Church; which gradually expunges the dirigiste model of the large and self-sufficient.

In this way, our divine DNA manifests itself when we achieve impossible recoveries.

In short, we are the bearers of a force capable of recreating women and men - even desperate ones who have lost energy and self-esteem.

From the very beginnings, in a practical, de facto ecumenical and inter-religious style, no particular denominational affiliation has been able to annihilate the spirit of convocation and coexistence, innate in humanity in search.

In concrete terms, the Lord's proposal has always left room for singular contributions, for even instinctive powers and images, for inner struggles - not denigrated at the outset as in religions.

The Risen One has manifested and expressed himself through the Mission of his lovable Community, a place favourable to the exchange of gifts; to the settlement of distances, to profound happiness.

This was His own way of revealing the Father's Love to the world - without excessive proclamation - and remaining close to us.

To internalise and live the message:

What are the signs of new life that you have been able and willing to receive, assimilate, put into action, and which correspond most to you?

Crossing cultural and religious boundaries

"Go into all the world and proclaim the Gospel to every creature" (Mk 16:15); "make disciples of all nations", says the Lord (Mt 28:19). With these words Jesus sends the Apostles to all creatures, so that God's saving action may reach everywhere. But if we look at the moment of Jesus' ascension into heaven, narrated in the Acts of the Apostles, we see that the disciples are still locked in their vision, thinking about the restoration of a new Davidic kingdom, and they ask the Lord, "is this the time when you will restore the kingdom for Israel?" (Acts 1:6). And how does Jesus respond? He responds by opening their horizons and giving them a promise and a task: he promises that they will be filled with the power of the Holy Spirit and gives them the task of witnessing to him throughout the world, going beyond the cultural and religious boundaries within which they were accustomed to think and live, to open themselves to the universal Kingdom of God. And at the beginning of the Church's journey, the Apostles and disciples set out without any human security, but with the sole strength of the Holy Spirit, the Gospel and faith. It is the ferment that spreads throughout the world, it enters into the different events and multiple cultural and social contexts, but it remains a single Church. Christian communities flourish around the Apostles, but they are 'the' Church, which, in Jerusalem, Antioch or Rome, is always the same, one and universal. And when the Apostles speak of the Church, they do not speak of their own community, they speak of the Church of Christ, and they insist on this unique, universal and total identity of the Catholica, which is realised in each local Church. The Church is one, holy, catholic and apostolic, reflecting in herself the source of her life and her journey: the unity and communion of the Trinity.

(Pope Benedict, address to the consistory 24 November 2012)

Faith that is not quiet.

Transmitted not to convince but to offer a treasure

St Mark, one of the four evangelists, is very close to the Apostle Peter. The Gospel of Mark was the first to be written. It is simple, a simple style, very close [...].

And in the Gospel we read now - which is the end of Mark's Gospel - there is the sending of the Lord. The Lord revealed himself as saviour, as the only Son of God; he revealed himself to all Israel, to the people, especially in more detail to the apostles, to the disciples. This is the Lord's farewell, the Lord is leaving: he departed and 'was lifted up into heaven and seated at the right hand of God' (Mk 16:19). But before he left, when he appeared to the Eleven, he said to them: 'Go into all the world and proclaim the Gospel to every creature' (Mk 16:15). There is the missionary nature of faith. Faith is either missionary or it is not faith. Faith is not just something for me to grow by faith: that is a Gnostic heresy. Faith always leads you out of yourself. Going out. The transmission of faith; faith is to be transmitted, it is to be offered, above all by witness: "Go, that people may see how you live" (cf. v. 15).

Someone said to me, a European priest, from a European city: 'There is so much unbelief, so much agnosticism in our cities, because Christians do not have faith. If they had it, they would surely give it to people'. Missionary outreach is missing. Because at root there is a lack of conviction: 'Yes, I am Christian, I am Catholic...'. As if it were a social attitude. On the identity card you call yourself so-and-so and 'I am a Christian'. It is a given on the identity card. This is not faith! This is a cultural thing. Faith necessarily takes you out, leads you to give it: because faith essentially has to be transmitted. It's not quiet. "Ah, you mean, Father, that we must all be missionaries and go to distant countries?" No, this is a part of missionary work. This means that if you have faith you necessarily have to go outside yourself, and make faith seen socially. Faith is social, it is for everyone: "Go into all the world and proclaim the gospel to every creature" (v. 15). And that doesn't mean proselytising, like I'm a proselytising football team, or I'm a charitable society. No, faith is "no proselytism". It is making revelation seen, so that the Holy Spirit can act in people through witnessing: as a witness, with service. Service is a way of life. If I say that I am a Christian and live like a pagan, it is no good! That doesn't convince anyone. If I say I am a Christian and I live as a Christian, that attracts. It is witnessing.

Once, in Poland, a university student asked me: 'In the university I have many fellow atheists. What do I have to tell them to convince them?" - "Nothing, dear, nothing! The last thing you have to do is say something. Start living, and they, seeing your testimony, will ask: 'But why do you live like this?'". Faith must be transmitted: not to convince, but to offer a treasure. "It is there, you see." And this is also the humility of which St Peter spoke in the First Reading: 'Beloved, clothe yourselves all with humility towards one another, for God resists the proud, but gives grace to the humble' (1 Peter 5:5). How many times in the Church, in history, have there been movements, aggregations, of men or women who wanted to convince of the faith, to convert... True 'proselytists'. And how did they end up? In corruption.

So tender is this Gospel passage! But where is the security? How can I be sure that by going out I will be fruitful in the transmission of the faith? "Proclaim the gospel to every creature" (Mk 16:15), do wonders (cf. vv. 17-18). And the Lord will be with us until the end of the world. It accompanies us. In the transmission of faith, there is always the Lord with us. In the transmission of ideology there will be teachers, but when I have an attitude of faith that must be transmitted, there is the Lord there to accompany me. Never, in the transmission of the faith, am I alone. It is the Lord with me who transmits the faith. He has promised: "I will be with you all days until the end of the world" (cf. Mt 28:20).

Let us pray to the Lord to help us live our faith in this way: faith from open doors, a transparent faith, not 'proselytising', but one that shows: 'This is who I am'. And with this healthy curiosity, you help people to receive this message that will save them.

(Pope Francis, St. Martha homily 25 April 2020)

“Go into all the world and preach the gospel to the whole creation” (Mk 16:15); “make disciples of all nations” (Mt 28:19). With these words, Jesus sends the Apostles to all creation, so that God’s saving action may reach everywhere. But if we consider the moment of Jesus’ ascension into heaven, as recounted in the Acts of the Apostles, we see that the disciples are still closed in their thinking, looking to the restoration of a new Davidic kingdom. They ask the Lord: “will you at this time restore the kingdom to Israel?” (Acts 1:6). How does Jesus answer? He answers by broadening their horizons and giving them both the promise and a task: he promises that they will be filled with the power of the Holy Spirit, and he confers upon them the task of bearing witness to him all over the world, transcending the cultural and religious confines within which they were accustomed to think and live, so as to open themselves to the universal Kingdom of God. At the beginning of the Church’s journey, the Apostles and disciples set off without any human security, purely in the strength of the Holy Spirit, the Gospel and the faith. This is the yeast that spreads round the world, enters into different events and into a wide range of cultural and social contexts, while remaining a single Church. Around the Apostles, Christian communities spring up, but these are “the” Church which is always the same, one and universal, whether in Jerusalem, Antioch, or Rome. And when the Apostles speak of the Church, they are not referring to a community of their own, but to the Church of Christ, and they insist on the unique, universal and all-inclusive identity of the Catholica that is realized in every local church. The Church is one, holy, catholic and apostolic, she reflects in herself the source of her life and her journey: the unity and communion of the Trinity.

[Pope Benedict, address to the consistory 24 November 2012]