(Jn 6:44-51)

God does not attract with peremptory force or blackmail, but with invitation (v.44).

And sincere belief is activated by an initial testimony in oneself (v.44).

The Father does not let us become chronic. He acts within each one to reshape convictions, adhesions, projects.

Everything works in the direction of ourselves, not in an unnatural mode.

He acts present in each person in a way that is spontaneous and at the same time akin to individuating principles; more respectful of inclinations, real characteristics, energies.

This teaching (v.45) is internal: impersonated by Christ in the Word that does not distort anything - implicit in his Person and story.

Thus the gift of life is linked to assimilating and becoming One with that Food.

Bread that does not damage people, but convinces, supports, ferments and orients - in an unrepeatable way; each one by Name.

That “Manducated” kills conformity and extinction.

It possesses the virtue of reknitting the threads that distinguish the character of Person, the innate quality, vocational essence, propulsive capacity [Life of the Eternal].

The bread of the earth preserves life but does not update, does not ceaselessly regenerate us, nor does it open a way through death.

The Bread that reactualizes the ultimate gift of the Son, nourishes the existence of an indestructible quality that does not fade, because it is divine Gold of our spring being.

The prophets had announced that in the last times one would not know God by hearsay but by personal experience.

After the failure of the kings and the priestly class, women and men would be taught directly by the Lord.

The expression «Bread came down from Heaven» designates Jesus himself in relationship with the Father and [precisely] in his mission to bring Wisdom, and exuberant Life, to people.

Divine, limitless Life, which immediately pours into each one - so excluding the uncertainties or interpretations veiled by the shortcomings, by the “visual” defects of the mediators, which conversely would lead to collapse.

Presence that in the time of complexity also kindles in us the desire to be instructed by God-in-Person, guided by the inner Friend, and walked by regenerating insights, in his Spirit.

He inclines us to pay no heed to a nature that seeks and «murmurs» only for the banal "taste" of sustenance: «manna in the desert» (v.49); that is, interest, reputation, titles, trivialitiy of satisfactions.

«I am the Bread, the Living, the one who came down from heaven. If anyone eats from this Bread, he shall live the Life of the Eternal, and the bread that I shall give is my flesh for the full Life of the world» (v. 51).

The Spirit that internalises and actualises is the main Subject of even domestic, daily history of salvation. Making himself ours.

By evangelizing us and growing in Friendship [we «instructed by God» (v.45)] the nourishing action of the Master introduces our fermented flesh into the new Life.

The Son beside us changes our 'taste' and familiarises of Himself the same 'Nature'.

In this way, we, too, assimilated and identified with the Bread-Person made intimate, reveal Totality in act, living Eternity, the original Source.

[Thursday 3rd wk. in Easter, April 23, 2026]

Also in domestic style

Jn 6:44-51 (41-51)

Jesus wants to turn the page. He does not intend to prop up the muddled, no longer vital.

He is faithful to the law of change of full Life, which ceaselessly seeks new arrangements - instead of stagnating in the situation.

This (at all times) while the religious authorities and the habitués wish to cling to the past, to what they know, to the ordinary sense of 'justice', to the morality of reference around...

In short, when it is Christ's time, everyone leaves. But the disagreement is already written.

God does not draw with peremptory force or blackmail, but with invitation (v.44).

And sincere belief is activated by an initial testimony in oneself (v.44).

For his social status as a small artisan [a landless man], the 'murmuring' (vv.41.43) was obvious, and referred back to the same opposition expressed by God's people wandering in the wilderness.

Not only is the divine claim to be authentic Manna, but the very origin of Jesus is incomprehensible to a devoutly quiet, normalised mentality - one that allows itself to be carried away without enigma.

The contestation is unrestrained and radical; it prefers and follows what gives immediate security - not the original. But the Lord does not slacken, otherwise he would leave us to become chronic.

Having to seem, having to be, having to do, do not give room for listening, for perception, for the change that awaits us: they paralyse.

The Father acts within each one to reshape convictions, adhesions, projects.

Everything works in the direction of ourselves, not unnaturally or of others - not even of Him.

He acts present in each person in the most spontaneous way.

In this way and at the same time, akin to individuating principles; more respectful of inclinations, of real characteristics, of energies even of the period.

This teaching (v.45) is interior: impersonated by Christ in the Word that does not distort anything - implicit in his Person and vicissitude.

Thus the gift of life is linked to assimilating and becoming One with that Food. Food that does not undermine the person, but rather convinces, sustains, ferments, and directs - in an unrepeatable way, by Name.

That sugared Bread grasps the flavour of an exterior emptiness at the bottom of which there is no annihilation: we are introduced into redemption, immersed in new life.

In conformity, life does not kill extinction. It does not possess the virtue of tying up the threads that distinguish the character of Person, nor the innate quality, the vocational essence, the propulsive capacity [Life of the Eternal].

It is the implicit 'cultural', ritual and banal, uninspired, ungenuine, that does not become living - and does not guarantee fullness but rather habituation.

As for us, if we have made a callus to it.

The bread of the earth preserves life but does not update, does not regenerate us ceaselessly, nor does it open a way through death.

The Bread that re-actualises for us the ultimate gift of the Son, nourishes existence with an indestructible quality that does not fade away, because Divine Gold of our being springs forth.

The prophets had announced: in the last times one would not know God by hearsay but by personal experience.

After the failure of kings and the priestly class, men would be taught directly by the Lord.

The expression 'Bread come down from Heaven' designates Jesus himself in relationship with the Father and [precisely] in his mission to bring Wisdom and exuberant Life to men.

Divine life, without limits, pours out immediately, to each one. Without uncertainties or interpretations veiled by the shortcomings of the "mediators", which on the contrary would lead to collapse.

Presence that in the time of complexity also kindles in us the desire to be taught by God-in-Person, guided by the inner Friend. They would be filled with regenerating insights, in his Spirit.

He inclines us to pay no heed to a nature that seeks and "murmurs" only for the corrupt "taste" of sustenance: "manna in the wilderness" (v.49); that is, interest, reputation, titles, trivialities of satisfaction.

Rather, we find authentic Life in the gift of good intuition and inner Vision.

In the grace that enables us to welcome the Call.

In the virtue that remains in listening - through active fidelity to the Vocation, through self-denial and righteousness of intentions that appropriate the virtues and merits of Christ.

"I am the Bread the Living, the one who came down from heaven. If anyone eats from this Bread he will live the Life of the Eternal, and the bread that I shall give is my flesh for the fullness of life in the world" (v.51).

The Spirit that internalises and actualises is the main Subject of even the most summary, daily history of salvation. Making ourselves our own.

By evangelising us and growing in Friendship ["instructed by God" (v.45)] the nourishing action of the Master immerses our fermented flesh in the New Life.

The Son beside us changes our 'taste' and familiarises of Himself the same 'Nature'.In this way, we too, assimilated and identified with the Bread-Person made intimate, reveal totality in action, living eternity, the original Source.

To internalise and live the message:

How do you enter into the gift of redemption through the Eucharist?

What 'contrary' morals around, the Bread of Life seeks to impart to you?

Have you ever felt 'severed from the earth' because of your different nourishment from Heaven?

What were the opportunities to make the leap that you may have overlooked?

7. The first element of eucharistic faith is the mystery of God himself, trinitarian love. In Jesus' dialogue with Nicodemus, we find an illuminating expression in this regard: "God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. For God sent the Son into the world, not to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through him" (Jn 3:16-17). These words show the deepest source of God's gift. In the Eucharist Jesus does not give us a "thing," but himself; he offers his own body and pours out his own blood. He thus gives us the totality of his life and reveals the ultimate origin of this love. He is the eternal Son, given to us by the Father. In the Gospel we hear how Jesus, after feeding the crowds by multiplying the loaves and fishes, says to those who had followed him to the synagogue of Capernaum: "My Father gives you the true bread from heaven; for the bread of God is he who comes down from heaven, and gives life to the world" (Jn 6:32-33), and even identifies himself, his own flesh and blood, with that bread: "I am the living bread which came down from heaven; if anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever; and the bread which I shall give for the life of the world is my flesh" (Jn 6:51). Jesus thus shows that he is the bread of life which the eternal Father gives to mankind.

[Pope Benedict, Sacramentum Caritatis]

1. "I am the living bread" (Jn 6:51). In the desert, the Apostles say to Jesus: "Dismiss the crowd" (cf. Lk 9, 12). This crowd followed the Master, listening to his words about the Kingdom of God; but by now the night and the hour of supper were approaching. The crowd stood there in silence and expectation. Already at one time in the wilderness, when there was a shortage of bread, the children of Israel had rebelled against Moses. They had then received the food, which fell every morning on the camp, and called it "manna". Thus the people, coming from the land of Egypt, had been able to continue their journey from the region of slavery to the promised land. Now Jesus says to the Apostles: "Give them something to eat yourselves" (Lk 9:13), and since they cannot find any solution, Christ multiplies the loaves: he blesses what little they have, breaks it and gives it to the disciples; and these, in turn, to the people. "They all ate and were satisfied".

2. The multiplication of the loaves in the desert is an announcement, as was the manna The crowds follow Jesus when they experience his power over food and human hunger. They are even ready to proclaim him king. Does not the Psalm of David speak of the Messiah's rule and the day of his triumph? "To thee the principality," it says, "in the day of thy power" (cf. Ps 110:3). At the same time, the same Psalm calls the royal Messiah a Priest: He is a Priest forever in the manner of Melchizedek (cf. Ps 110:4). Melchizedek was both king and Priest of the Most High God. Unlike the priests of the Old Covenant, he offered to God not the blood of immolated animals, but bread and wine.

3. The multiplication of the loaves in the desert is, therefore, a prophetic message: Christ knows that He Himself will one day fulfil the prophecy contained in the sacrifice of Melchizedek. As the Priest of the New Covenant - of the Eternal Covenant - Jesus will enter the eternal sanctuary, having accomplished the work of the Redemption of the world by His own blood. To the Apostles in the Upper Room he gave in essence, once again, the same command: "Feed him yourselves! - Do this in memory of me!" There are different categories of hunger, which torment the great human family. There was the hunger that turned entire cities and towns into graveyards. There was the hunger of the death camps, produced by totalitarian systems. In various parts of the globe there is still the hunger of the third and 'fourth' world: there starve men, mothers and children, adults and the elderly. The hunger of the human organism is terrible, the hunger that exterminates. But there is also the hunger of the soul, of the spirit. The human soul does not die on the paths of present history. The death of the human soul has another character: it takes on the dimension of eternity. It is the "second death" (Rev 20:14). By multiplying the loaves for the hungry, Christ placed the prophetic sign of the existence of another Bread: 'I am the living bread, come down from Heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever" (Jn 6:51).

4. Here is the great mystery of faith. The same people for whom Christ multiplied the loaves, those who "ate and were filled" (Lk 9:17), were, however, unable to believe his words when he spoke of the food that is his Flesh, and the drink that is his Blood. For this, the same people later asked for his death on the cross. So it came to pass. And when all was fulfilled, the mystery of the Last Supper was revealed: 'This is my body, which is for you . . . This cup is the new covenant in my blood" (1 Cor 11: 24-25). Out of the Upper Room came the Priest "in the manner of Melchizedek". He now walks with his people through history.

5. Such is the content that the Solemnity of Corpus Christi intends to express, and which we wish to proclaim with this Eucharistic procession through the streets of Rome, from the Basilica of the Most Holy Saviour in the Lateran to the Marian Basilica on the Esquiline Hill. "Ave verum Corpus natum de Maria Virgine". The way we walk becomes a concrete image of the many other ways of the Church in today's world. The Bishop of Rome, servant of all servants of the Eucharist, follows with thought and heart all those who bear witness to this Mystery today, from north to south, from sunrise to sunset. Everywhere where the People of God of the New Covenant are found, there is also Him, "the living bread, come down from heaven".

Everywhere. "If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever."

[Pope John Paul II, Corpus Christi homily 18 June 1992]

In the Gospel for today’s Liturgy, Jesus continues preaching to the people who had seen the prodigy of the multiplication of the loaves. And he invites those people to make a qualitative leap: after having recalled the manna with which God had fed the forefathers in the long journey through the desert, he now applies the symbol of the bread to himself. He states clearly: “I am the bread of life” (Jn 6:48).

What does bread of life mean? We need bread to live. Those who are hungry do not ask for refined and expensive food, they ask for bread. Those who are unemployed do not ask for enormous wages, but the “bread” of employment. Jesus reveals himself as bread, that is, the essential, what is necessary for everyday life; without Him it does not work. Not one bread among many others, but the bread of life. In other words, without him, rather than living, we get by: because he alone nourishes the soul; he alone forgives us from that evil that we cannot overcome on our own; he alone makes us feel loved even if everyone else disappoints us; he alone gives us the strength to love and, he alone gives us the strength to forgive in difficulties; he alone gives that peace to the heart that it is searching for; he alone gives eternal life when life here on earth ends. He is the essential bread of life

I am the bread of life, He says. Let us pause on this beautiful image of Jesus. He could have offered a rationale, a demonstration, but – we know – Jesus speaks in parables, and in this expression: “I am the bread of life”, he truly sums up his entire being and mission. This will be seen completely at the end, at the Last Supper. Jesus knows that the Father is asking him not only to give food to people, but to give himself, to break himself, his own life, his own flesh, his own heart so that we might have life. These words of the Lord reawaken in us our amazement for the gift of the Eucharist. No one in this world, as much they might love another person, can make themselves become food for them. God did so, and does so, for us. Let us renew this amazement. Let us do so as we adore the Bread of Life, because adoration fills life with amazement.

In the Gospel, however, rather than being amazed, the people are scandalized, they rend their clothing. They think: “We know this Jesus, we know his family. How can he say,’ I am the bread which came down from heaven’?” (cf. vv. 41-42). Perhaps we too might be scandalized: it might make us more comfortable to have a God who stays in heaven without getting involved in our life, while we can manage matters here on earth. Instead, God became man to enter into the concrete reality of this world; to enter into our concrete reality, God became mand for me, for you, for all of us, in order to enter into our life. And He is interested in every aspect of our life. We can tell him about what we are feeling, our work, our day, our heartache, our anguish, so many things. We can tell Him everything because Jesus wants this intimacy with us. What does he not want? To be relegated to being considered a side dish – he who is Bread –, to be overlooked and set aside, or called on only when we need him.

I am the bread of life. At least once a day we find ourselves eating together; perhaps in the evening with our family, after a day of work or study. It would be lovely, before breaking bread, to invite Jesus, the bread of Life, to ask him simply to bless what we have done and what we have failed to do. Let us invite him into our home; let us pray in a “homey” style. Jesus will be at the table with us and we will be fed by a greater love.

May the Virgin Mary, in whom the Word became flesh, help us to grow day after day in friendship with Jesus, the bread of Life.

[Pope Francis, Angelus 8 August 2021]

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

The Easter Triduum and Easter [2–5 April 2026]

Holy Week, the most important week of the year for us Christians, allows believers to immerse themselves in the central events of the Redemption by reliving the Paschal Mystery, the great Mystery of faith. These are the days of the Easter Triduum, the fulcrum of the entire liturgical year, which help us to open our hearts to an understanding of the priceless gift that is the salvation obtained for us through Christ’s sacrifice. This immense gift is recounted in a famous hymn contained in the Letter to the Philippians (cf. 2:6–11), which we often have the opportunity to meditate upon during Lent. In it, Saint Paul traces the entire mystery of the history of salvation, alluding to the pride of Adam who, though not God, wanted to be like God. And he contrasts this pride of the first man—which we all feel to some extent within ourselves—with the humility of the true Son of God who, by becoming man, did not hesitate to take upon himself all the weaknesses of the human being, except sin, and went as far as the depths of death. This descent into the ultimate depths of passion and death is then followed by his exaltation, true glory, the glory of love that went to the very end. And it is therefore fitting – as Paul says – that ‘at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess: Jesus Christ is Lord!’ (2:10-1). St Paul alludes, with these words, to a prophecy of Isaiah where God says: ‘I am the Lord; let every knee bow before me in heaven and on earth’ (cf. Is 45:23). This, says Paul, applies to Jesus Christ. He truly, in his humility, in the true greatness of his love, is the Lord of the world, and before him every knee truly bows. How wonderful, and at the same time surprising, is this mystery! We can never meditate sufficiently on this reality. Jesus, though he was God, did not wish to make his divine prerogatives an exclusive possession; he did not wish to use his divinity, his glorious dignity and his power, as an instrument of triumph and a sign of distance from us. On the contrary, ‘he emptied himself’ by taking on the wretched and weak human condition – Paul uses, in this regard, a very evocative Greek verb to indicate the kénosis, this descent of Jesus. The divine form (morphé) was hidden in Christ under the human form, that is, under our reality marked by suffering, poverty, our human limitations and death. This radical and true sharing in our nature—sharing in everything except sin—led him to that frontier which is the sign of our finitude: death. Yet all this was not the result of some obscure mechanism or blind fate: rather, it was his free choice, born of a generous adherence to the Father’s plan of salvation. And the death he faced – adds Paul – was that of the cross, the most humiliating and degrading one imaginable. All this the Lord of the universe accomplished out of love for us: out of love he chose to ‘empty himself’ and become our brother; out of love he shared our condition, that of every man and every woman. A great witness of the Eastern tradition, Theodoret of Cyrus, writes on this subject: ‘Being God and God by nature, and being equal with God, he did not regard this as something to be grasped, as do those who have received some honour beyond their merits, but, hiding his merits, he chose the deepest humility and took the form of a human being’ (Commentary on the Epistle to the Philippians, 2:6–7).

Let us now pause to reflect briefly on the various moments of the Easter Triduum. The prelude to the Easter Triduum, with the evocative afternoon rites of Holy Thursday, is the solemn Chrism Mass, which the Bishop celebrates in the morning with his presbyterate, and during which the priestly promises made on the day of Ordination are renewed together. It is a gesture of great significance, a most propitious occasion on which priests reaffirm their fidelity to Christ, who has chosen them as his ministers. Also during the Chrism Mass, the oil of the sick and the oil of catechumens will be blessed, and the Chrism will be consecrated. These rites symbolically signify the fullness of Christ’s Priesthood and that ecclesial communion which must animate the Christian people, gathered for the Eucharistic sacrifice and enlivened in unity by the gift of the Holy Spirit.

In the afternoon Mass, known as the Mass of the Lord’s Supper, the Church commemorates the institution of the Eucharist, the ministerial priesthood and the new commandment of charity, left by Jesus to his disciples. Saint Paul offers one of the earliest accounts of what took place in the Upper Room on the eve of the Lord’s Passion. ‘The Lord Jesus,’ he writes in the early 1950s, drawing on a text he received from the Lord’s own circle, ‘on the night he was betrayed, took bread, and having given thanks, broke it and said: “This is my body, which is for you; do this in remembrance of me”. In the same way, after supper, he also took the cup, saying: “This cup is the new covenant in my blood; do this, whenever you drink it, in remembrance of me” (1 Cor 11:23–25). Words steeped in mystery, which clearly reveal Christ’s will: under the species of bread and wine, He makes Himself present with His body given and His blood shed. It is the sacrifice of the new and definitive covenant offered to all, without distinction of race or culture. And for this sacramental rite, which He entrusts to the Church as the supreme proof of His love, Jesus appoints as ministers His disciples and all those who will continue His ministry throughout the centuries. Holy Thursday is therefore a renewed invitation to give thanks to God for the supreme gift of the Eucharist, to be received with devotion and adored with living faith. For this reason, the Church encourages us, after the celebration of Holy Mass, to keep vigil in the presence of the Most Holy Sacrament, recalling the sorrowful hour that Jesus spent in solitude and prayer in Gethsemane, before being arrested and subsequently condemned to death.

Good Friday is the day of the Lord’s Passion and Crucifixion. Every year, as we stand in silence before Jesus hanging on the wood of the cross, we sense how full of love are the words He spoke the evening before, during the Last Supper. “This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many” (cf. Mk 14:24). Jesus wished to offer His life as a sacrifice for the forgiveness of humanity’s sins. Just as with the Eucharist, so too with the Passion and death of Jesus on the Cross, the mystery becomes unfathomable to reason. We are faced with something that, from a human perspective, might seem absurd: a God who not only becomes man, with all the needs of man, not only suffers to save man by taking upon himself the full weight of humanity’s tragedy, but dies for man.

Christ’s death recalls the accumulation of pain and evil that weighs upon humanity in every age: the crushing burden of our mortality, the hatred and violence that still today stain the earth with blood. The Lord’s Passion continues in the sufferings of mankind. As Blaise Pascal rightly writes, ‘Jesus will be in agony until the end of the world; we must not sleep during this time’ (Pensées, 553). If Good Friday is a day full of sadness, it is at the same time a day more propitious than ever for reawakening our faith, for strengthening our hope and the courage to carry our own cross with humility, trust and surrender to God, certain of his support and his victory. The liturgy of this day sings: O Crux, ave, spes unica – Hail, O Cross, our only hope!

This hope is nourished in the great silence of Holy Saturday, as we await the resurrection of Jesus. On this day, the churches are stripped bare and no special liturgical rites are scheduled. The Church keeps vigil in prayer like Mary and together with Mary, sharing her same feelings of sorrow and trust in God. It is rightly recommended that a prayerful atmosphere, conducive to meditation and reconciliation, be maintained throughout the day; the faithful are encouraged to approach the Sacrament of Penance, so that they may participate in the Easter celebrations truly renewed.

The recollection and silence of Holy Saturday will lead us through the night to the solemn Easter Vigil, ‘the mother of all vigils’, when the song of joy for Christ’s Resurrection will burst forth in all churches and communities. Once again, the victory of light over darkness, of life over death, will be proclaimed, and the Church will rejoice in her encounter with her Lord. Thus we shall enter into the spirit of the Easter of the Resurrection.

Let us prepare ourselves to live the Holy Triduum intensely, so that we may participate ever more deeply in the Mystery of Christ. The Blessed Virgin accompanies us on this journey; she followed her Son Jesus in silence to Calvary, sharing in his sacrifice with great sorrow, thus cooperating in the mystery of Redemption and becoming the Mother of all believers (cf. Jn 19:25–27). Together with Mary, we shall enter the Upper Room, we shall remain at the foot of the Cross, we shall keep vigil in spirit beside the dead Christ, awaiting with hope the dawn of the radiant day of the Resurrection. In this spirit, I offer you all, even at this early stage, my warmest wishes for a joyful and holy Easter, which I ask you to extend to your families, your parishes and your communities.

+Giovanni D’Ercole