(Mt 11:25-30)

The one prayer of Jesus little taught

Scientists and Little People: abstract world and incarnation

(Mt 11:25-27)

"The world gives credit to the "wise" and the "learned", while God prefers the "little ones". The general teaching from this is that there are two dimensions of reality: one is deeper, true and eternal, the other marked by finiteness, impermanence and appearance" [Pope Benedict].

God's Broad Reason is not according to "fortune", or "measure"

In commentary on the Tao Tê Ching (iv) Master Ho-shang Kung writes:

"Human desires are sharp and subtle; they strive to appropriate merit and glory. When they are blunted, man masters them, and in imitation of the Way, does not fill himself".

The leaders looked at religiosity with an interest. Professors of theology used to evaluate every comma from their own ridiculously supponent knowledge - unrelated to real events.

Jesus finds himself against even his own family. Under the cloak and blackmail of habitual social conventions, they too were subjected to the preconception of the opinion of the 'great' and the evasive oral tradition, which did not convey nourishment to the concrete fabric of human time.

The Lord observes: even the Apostles are not free people; that is why they do not emancipate anyone and even prevent any breakthrough (cf. Luke 9).

Their way of being is so grounded in standard attitudes and compulsory behaviour that it translates into impermeable mental armour.

Their predictability is too limiting: it gives no breathing space to the path of those who instead want to reactivate themselves, discover and value surprises behind the secret sides of reality and personality.

That which remains bound to ancient customs [or abstractions] and usual protagonists [or sophisticated pseudo-teachers] does not make one dream, it is not an apparition and astonishing testimony of the Other; it takes away expressive richness from the Announcement and from life.

The Master rejoices in his own experience, which brings a non-epidermal joy and a teaching from the Spirit - about those who are well-disposed, and capable of understanding the depths of the Kingdom, in ordinary things.

[At a certain point in the spiritual journey, one realises in Christ that one must detach oneself from the idolatry of deference: it stifles and mocks life.

Faith proceeds on the track of the Happiness of the concrete woman and man, conversely rendered puppet-like by a false piety that is all exhibitionist or disembodied].

In short, after an initial moment of enthusiastic crowds, the Master delves deeper into the issues and finds everyone against him, except God and the least: the weightless, but with a strong desire to start from scratch.

Gleam of the Mystery that leavens history - without making it a possession.

At the conclusion of the encyclical Fratelli Tutti, Pope Francis cites the figure and experience of Charles de Foucauld, who - subverting everything - "only by identifying himself with the least came to be a brother to all" (no. 287).

At first, even Jesus is stunned by the rejection of those who were already satisfied with the official religious structure and were no longer waiting for anything that could oust the beaten track, arousing habits (or fantasies) and gaining advantage.

Then it overcomes the initial surprise: it fully grasps, praises and blesses the Father's plan, making it its own, holding it close to itself.

He brings to full and proper knowledge his Secret: that the Root of the transformation of being into the Unseen of God is concealment, "tapinōsis" [(tapeínōsis, "lowering"), from ταπεινός (tapeinós, "low") [v.29; Lk 1:48].

Here, the Son knows and understands the nucleus of the Expectations and Promises of the Covenant, and its protagonists - on the contrary: the trustworthy Person is born precisely from the slums, not from the class of elites.

In short, Christ intuits the all-round authenticity precisely of the unfortunate - the profound impulse, motive, motor, quintessence and unique energy of salvation history.

Transparency of the Eternal, which comes from another elaboration.

Genesis itself upsets the established religious relationship, which at times has become inert and "reassuring" - never profound nor decisive for human destiny.

God is Simple Report: he demythologises the idol of greatness.

The Eternal One is no longer the master of creation [He who manifested Himself strong and peremptory; in His action, still in the Old Covenant illustrated through the irrepressible powers of nature].

Quite the opposite. In this way, reflexively, and also in the spiritual journey, the Father does not lead us to alienation, to the hysteria of forcings we do not want, to inner dissociations.

He is Friend and Refreshment that refreshes, because He makes us feel complete and lovable; He seeks us by Name, He is attentive to the language of the heart.

He is Keeper of the world, even of the unlearned - of the "infants" (v.25) spontaneously empty of a boastful spirit, that is, of those who do not remain closed in their sufficient belonging.As it is, 'perfect' in order to their mission in the world. Not empty glasses, only to be re-educated in institutional function.

No longer souls to be chiselled according to models.

If anything, hearts to be guided to total awareness; souls to be completed in the sense of complete self-discovery, in the opposites of character and vocational essence.

In this way, the Father-Son relationship is communicated to God's poor: those endowed with a family-like attitude (v.27).

Capable of coexistence, yet more autonomous than the identified and well-integrated... totally committed to tracing, in order to be recognised.

The poor remain genuine: what they are; not outsiders.

Insignificant and invisible, devoid of great gifts, but strangely always filled with an Other 'power'.

This is the 'virtue' of the infirm, who abandon themselves to the proposals of the providential life that comes, like children in the arms of parents.

With a spirit of 'pietas' - which favours those who allow themselves to be filled with innate wisdom.

The only reality that corresponds to us and does not present the 'bill': it does not proceed along the paths of functional thinking, of calculating initiative.

Wisdom that conveys freshness in the readiness to receive, welcome, personally reinvigorate the Truth as Gift - and the spontaneous enthusiasm itself, capable of realising it.

A prayer of blessing that is simple, for the simple - this of Jesus (v.25) - that makes us grow in esteem, fits perfectly with our experience, and agrees with ourselves; starting from the innermost.

But that strangely, the learned in the territory who do not live 'the spirit of the neighbourhood' (FT no.152) but in the territory claim positions and always play smart, have never wanted to transmit to us.

The new, the voiceless and invisible do not reason in terms of doctrine and laws - vv.29-30: unbearable 'yoke' that crushes people and concrete, particular vocations - but in terms of life and humanity.

This is how we enrich the fundamental and spontaneous experience of Faith-Love, fulfilling it without mannerisms or intimate forcing that then pulls us out of ourselves.

Because the exteriority of the pyramidal world, the distrust of those who want to "count", the anxiety of the competitive and epidermic society, impoverish the gaze; they contaminate the vital wave.

For God, it is better to 'count' little.

He does not force us into the energy of models, nor does he put forward the aggressive power of the 'big shots' as an ideal.

In this way, his intimates, rather than only with the 'great' and external, will live in communion with the 'small' in themselves; or they will not enjoy amiability, nor authentic life.

To internalise and live the message:

What do you feel when you are told: 'You don't count'?

Does it remain a humiliating contempt or do you consider it a great Light received, as Jesus did?

The Yoke on the Little Ones

Religion turned into obsession - for "held back"

(Mt 11:28-30)

The rabbis chose disciples from among those with greater intellectual and ascetic abilities. Jesus instead goes after the outcasts, the "infants" (v.25) who did not even have self-esteem.

Even for the rebirth that is on the horizon today, Christ has no need of false phenomena; on the contrary, it is He who frees from external constraints; He releases inner strength [and also heals the brain]. 

Into the intimacy of the Mystery of divine life enters those who know how to receive everything and let go - but remain themselves.

God is not distant, but very near; he is not great, but small: the effective way to become intimate with the Father is not to make oneself subordinate with effort, but to know oneself as a dissolved family member.

Only here can we grasp him in the centre of his unveiling: wise power, succouring, united; for us, as we are.

The pundits of official religion - overflowing with self-love and a sense of election - preached a God to be convinced with confident attitudes and a contrived, cutting, imperious manner.

They let neither being nor becoming be. Intransigence was a sign that they did not know the Father.

The Eternal One transformed into the Controller had become a source of discrimination and obsession for the intimate life of tiny people, harassed by the insecurity of distinguishing-avoiding-observing, and by doubts of conscience.

Discouraged from living personally (and as a class) the conversion they preached to others, the professors did not realise that they had to empty themselves of absurd presumptions and become - they - pupils of ordinary people.

In short, as children we are incessantly invited to build a multifaceted family, where we are not always on the alert.

We are not the subordinates of a frowning and all-distant - but manipulative - Lord.

Rather, they were called to a paradoxical, personal and class choice: and without forcing it, to recognise themselves - to stand alongside the humiliated and harassed.

This is while provincial false piety continues to drag burdens - precisely those of the thwarted and weary, of existence made more hesitant rather than free; obsessed and heavy, rather than light.

Why? Without mincing words, the Encyclical Brothers All would reply:

"The best way to dominate and advance without limits is to sow the seeds of hopelessness and arouse constant distrust, albeit disguised with the defence of certain values" (no.15).

As if to say: when the authorities and the top of the class have little credibility, only the sowing of fear produces significant conditioning in the people, and puts them on a leash.

In the widespread Church, we have only for the past few decades overcome the cliché of moralistic and terroristic preaching [e.g. even at Advent time] divorced from a meridian sense of humanisation.

The excluded, dejected and exhausted by meaningless fulfilments have nevertheless continued to meet the Saviour frankly, finding rest of soul, conviction, peace, balance, hope.

By instinct, they have succeeded in carving out what no pyramidal religion had ever been able to offer and deploy.

In this way, the new, the voiceless, inadequate and invisible, never know how to calculate in terms of doctrine and laws, norm and code - ancient 'yoke' (vv.29-30) unbearable, which crushes people and concrete vocations; particular autonomies or communionalities.

In short, no 'patriarch' is empowered by God to pack our souls, force directions, and keep a maniacal, perfectionist, and meticulous eye on us.

Exaggerating failures, across the board.

Everyone has an inherent way of being in the world, all their own - even if it is habitual. It is an opportunity of impulse and richness for all.

We ourselves do not want to exacerbate events by regulating every detail, even 'spiritual' ones, from irritating patterns of vigilance that do not belong to us.

We prefer to let personal ways of dealing with reality flow; thus tracing its essential and spontaneous energies.

We reason according to codes of life and humanisation: temperament, unrepeatable history, cultural influences, broad friendships. We do not live to prevent.

Only in this way can we enrich the fundamental experience: Love - which does not come from judgements, cuts and separations, but from the Father-Son relationship. One that does not irritate.

The root of the transformation of being in God's unpredictable is precisely concealment, 'tapinōsis' [(tapeínōsis, 'lowering'), from ταπεινός (tapeinós, 'low') [v.29 Greek text; Lk 1:48].

Only those who love strength start from the too far from themselves.

To internalise and live the message:

Do you find yourself more or less free and serene in community?

Does your Calling obtain breath or do you feel the burden of others' doubts, judgments, prohibitions and prescriptions?

Do you suffer from some guide or from yourself a kind of controller complex?

The world considers a long life fortunate, but God, more than age, looks at the uprightness of heart. The world gives credit to the "wise" and "intelligent", while God prefers the "lowly". The general teaching that we can draw from this is that there are two dimensions to reality: a more profound, true and eternal one and the other, marked by finitude, transience and appearance. Now, it is important to emphasize that these two dimensions are not placed in simple temporal succession, as if true eternal life were to begin only after death. In reality, true life, eternal life already begins in this world, although within the precariousness of human history; eternal life begins in the measure to which we open ourselves to the mystery of God and welcome it in our midst. It is God, the Lord of life, in whom "we live and move and have our being" (Acts 17: 28), as St Paul said at the Areopagus in Athens.

God is the true wisdom that never ages, the authentic wealth that never corrupts, the happiness to which every man aspires in the depths of his heart. This truth, that passes through the Wisdom Books and re-emerges in the New Testament, comes to fulfilment in the existence and teaching of Jesus.

[Pope Benedict, homily 3 November 2008]

1. An innumerable host of "wise virgins" like those praised in the Gospel parable we have just heard, have known, throughout the Christian centuries, how to await the Bridegroom with their lamps, well stocked with oil, to participate with him in the feast of grace on earth, and of glory in heaven. Among them, today shines before our gaze the great and beloved Saint Catherine of Siena, splendid flower of Italy, most resplendent gem of the Dominican Order, star of unparalleled beauty in the firmament of the Church, whom we honour here on the sixth centenary of her death, which occurred on a Sunday morning, about the third hour, on 29 April 1380, while the feast of Saint Peter the Martyr, whom she loved so much, was being celebrated.

Happy to be able to give you a first sign of my lively participation in the centenary celebration, I cordially greet all of you, dear brothers and sisters, who, to worthily commemorate the glorious date, have gathered in this Vatican Basilica, where the ardent spirit of the great Sienese woman seems to hover. I greet in a special way the Master General of the Friars Preachers, Father Vincent de Couesnongle, and the Archbishop of Siena, Monsignor Mario Ismaele Castellano, the main promoters of this celebration; I greet the members of the Dominican Third Order and of the Ecumenical Association of the Catholics, the participants in the International Congress of Catholics Studies, and all of you, dear pilgrims, who have travelled so many roads of Italy and Europe to unite yourselves in this centre of Catholicity, on such a beautiful and significant feast day.

2. Today, we look to St Catherine first of all to admire in her what immediately struck those who approached her: the extraordinary richness of her humanity, in no way obscured, but rather increased and perfected by grace, which made her almost a living image of that true and healthy Christian "humanism", the fundamental law of which is formulated by Catherine's brother and teacher, St Thomas Aquinas, in the well-known aphorism: "Grace does not suppress, but supposes and perfects nature" (St Thomas, Summa Theologia, p. 4). Thomas, Summa Theologiae, I, q. 1, a. 8, ad 2). The full-sized man is the one who is realised in the grace of Christ.

When, in my ministry, I insist on drawing everyone's attention to the dignity and values of man, which must be defended, respected and served today, it is above all of this nature that came forth from the hands of the Creator and was renewed in the blood of Christ the Redeemer that I speak: a nature that is good in itself, and therefore healable in its infirmities and perfectible in its gifts, called to receive that "more" that makes it share in the divine nature and in "eternal life". When this supernatural element is grafted into man and can act on him with all its force, we have the prodigy of the 'new creature', which in its transcendent elevation does not annul, but makes richer, denser, firmer everything that is purely human.

Thus our saint, in her nature as a woman endowed with imagination, intuition, sensitivity, volitional and operative vigour, communicative capacity and strength, willingness to give of herself and to service, is transfigured, but not impoverished, in the light of Christ who calls her to be his bride and to mystically identify with him in the depths of 'interior knowledge', as well as to commit herself to charitable, social and even political action, among the great and the small, the rich and the poor, the learned and the ignorant. And she, almost illiterate, becomes capable of making herself heard, and read, and taken into consideration by governors of cities and kingdoms, by princes and prelates of the Church, by monks and theologians, by many of whom she is even revered as 'teacher' and 'mother'.

She is a prodigious woman, who in that second half of the 14th century shows in herself what a human creature is capable of, and - I insist - a woman, the daughter of humble dyers, when she knows how to listen to the voice of the only shepherd and master, and nourish herself at the table of the divine Bridegroom, to whom, as a 'wise virgin', she has generously consecrated her life.

It is a masterpiece of the renewing and elevating grace of the creature to the perfection of holiness, which is also the full realisation of the fundamental values of humanity.

3. Catherine's secret in responding so meekly, faithfully and fruitfully to the call of her divine Bridegroom can be grasped from the same explanations and applications of the parable of the 'wise virgins' that she makes several times in her letters to her disciples. Particularly in the one sent to a young niece who wants to be a 'bride of Christ', she lays down a small summary of spiritual life, which applies especially to those who consecrate themselves to God in the religious state, but is of guidance and direction to all.

"If you want to be a true bride of Christ," writes the saint, "you better have the lamp, the oil and the light."Do you know what is meant by this, my child?".

And here is the symbolism of the lamp: "By the lamp is meant the heart, which must resemble a lamp. Thou seest well that the lamp is wide above, and narrow below: and so is our heart made, to signify that we must always have it wide above, by holy thoughts, holy imaginations, and continual prayer; with the memory always turned to remembering the benefits of God, and especially the benefit of the blood by which we have been recompensed...".

"I also told you that the lamp is narrow below: so also is our heart, to signify that it must be narrow towards these earthly things, neither desiring them nor loving them disorderly, nor coveting them in greater quantity than God wants to give us, but we must thank him always, admiring how sweetly he provides for us, so that we never lack anything..." (Letter 23).

In the lamp you need oil. "The lamp would not be enough if there were no oil in it. And by oil is meant that sweet little virtue of deep humility.... Those five foolish virgins, glorying solely and vainly in the integrity and virginity of the body, lost the virginity of the soul, because they did not bring with them the oil of humility..." (Ibid).

"Finally, it is necessary for the lamp to be lit and for the flame to burn in it: otherwise it would not be enough for us to see. This flame is the light of the most holy faith. I say living faith, because the saints say that faith without works is dead..." (Ibid; cf. Letters 79, 360).

Throughout her life, Catherine actually nourished the lamp of her heart with great humility, and kept the light of faith, the fire of charity, and the zeal of good works done for the love of God burning, even in the hours of tribulation and passion, when her soul reached its greatest conformation to Christ crucified, until one day the Lord celebrated the mystical wedding with her in the small cell where she lived, made all resplendent by that divine presence (cf. Life, nos. 114-115).

If men today, and especially Christians, could rediscover the wonders that can be known and enjoyed in the "inner cell", and indeed in the heart of Christ! Then, yes, man would find himself, the reasons for his dignity, the foundation of his every value, the height of his eternal vocation!

4. But Christian spirituality does not exhaust itself in an intimistic circle, nor does it push towards an individualistic and egocentric isolation. The elevation of the person takes place in the symphony of the community. And Catherine, who keeps the cell of her home and heart to herself, has lived since her youth in communion with so many other children of God, in whom she feels the mystery of the Church vibrate: with the friars of St Dominic, to whom she is united in spirit even when the bell calls them in choir, at night, for matins; with the capes of Siena, among whom she is admitted for the exercise of works of charity and the common practice of prayer; with her disciples, who grow to form around her a cenacle of fervent Christians, who welcome her exhortations to the spiritual life and the incitements to renewal and reform that she addresses to all in the name of Christ; and one can say with the entire 'mystical body of the Church' (cf. Dialogue, can. 166), with whom and for whom Catherine prays, works, suffers, offers herself, and finally dies.

His great sensitivity to the problems of the Church of his time is thus transformed into a communion with the 'Christus patiens' and the 'Ecclesia patiens'. This communion is at the origin of the same outward activity, which at a certain moment the saint is driven to carry out first with charitable action and the lay apostolate in her city, and soon on a broader level, with commitment on a social, political, ecclesial scale.

In any case, Catherine drew from that inner source the courage for action and that inexhaustible hope that sustains her even in the most difficult hours, even when all seems lost, and allows her to influence others, even at the highest ecclesiastical levels, with the strength of her faith and the charm of her person completely offered to the cause of the Church.

At a meeting of Cardinals in the presence of Urban VI, according to the account of Blessed Raymond, Catherine "showed that divine Providence is always present, especially when the Church suffers"; and she did so with such ardour that the pontiff finally exclaimed: "What has the vicar of Jesus Christ to fear, if the whole world were to turn against him? Christ is more powerful than the world, and it is not possible for him to abandon his Church!" (Vita, n. 334).

5. That was an exceptionally serious moment for the Church and the Apostolic See. The demon of division had penetrated the Christian people. Discussions and fights were breaking out everywhere. In Rome itself there were those who plotted against the Pope, not without threatening him with death. The people were rioting.

Catherine, who did not cease to hearten pastors and faithful, felt however that the hour had come for a supreme offering of herself, as a victim of expiation and reconciliation together with Christ. And so he prayed to the Lord: "For the honour of your name and for the sake of your holy Church, I will gladly drink the cup of passion and death, as I have always wished to drink; you are my witness, since, by your grace, I began to love you with all my mind and with all my heart" (Ibid., no. 346).

From then on it began to deteriorate rapidly. Every morning of that Lent of 1380, "she went to the church of St Peter, prince of the apostles, where, having heard mass, she remained long in prayer; she did not return home until the hour of vespers", exhausted. The next day. early in the morning, "starting from the street known as Via del Papa (today St Clare's Street), where she was at home, between Minerva and Campo dei Fiori, she went swiftly to St Peter's, making a journey to tire even a healthy man" (Ibid., no. 348; cf. Letter 373).

But at the end of April, he could no longer get up. He then gathered his spiritual family around his bed. In her long farewell, she declared to her disciples: 'I commit life, death and everything into the hands of my eternal Spouse.... If it pleases him that I should die, hold firm, my dear children, that I have given my life for the holy Church, and this I believe by the exceptional grace which the Lord has granted me' (Ibid., no. 363).

Shortly afterwards she died. She was but 33 years old: a beautiful youth offered to the Lord by the 'wise virgin' who had come to the end of her waiting and service.

We are gathered here, six hundred years since that morning (Ibid., no. 348), to commemorate that death and especially to celebrate that supreme offering of life for the Church.

My dear brothers and sisters, it is consoling that you have come in such great numbers to glorify and invoke the saint on this auspicious occasion.

It is fitting that the humble Vicar of Christ, like so many of his predecessors, should inspire, precede and guide you in paying homage of praise and thanksgiving to her who loved the Church so much, and who worked and suffered so much for her unity and renewal. And I did so wholeheartedly.

Now let me give you a final remembrance, which is meant to be a message, an exhortation, an invitation to hope, a stimulus to action: I take it from the words that Catherine addressed to her disciple Stefano Maconi and to all her companions in action and passion for the Church: "If you will be what you must be, you will set fire to the whole of Italy..." (Letter 368). (Letter 368); indeed, I would add: in the whole Church, in the whole world. Humanity needs this 'fire' even today, and indeed perhaps more today than yesterday. May Catherine's word and example awaken in so many generous souls the desire to be flames that burn and that, like her, are consumed in order to give their brothers and sisters the light of faith and the warmth of charity "that does not fail" (1 Cor 13:8).

[Pope John Paul II, homily VI centenary s. Catherine of Siena, 29 April 1980]

Today we celebrate the feast of St Catherine of Siena, Co-Patroness of Italy. This great figure of a woman drew from communion with Jesus the courage of action and that inexhaustible hope that sustained her in the most difficult hours, even when all seemed lost, and enabled her to influence others, even at the highest civil and ecclesiastical levels, with the strength of her faith. May her example help each one to know how to unite, with Christian consistency, an intense love for the Church with an effective solicitude in favour of the civil community, especially in this time of trial. I ask Saint Catherine that she protect Italy during this pandemic; and that she protect Europe, because she is the patroness of Europe, that she protect all of Europe so that it may remain united.

[Pope Francis, greetings after the General Audience 29 April 2020]

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