(Jn 15:26-16:4a)

Faith in the Master is already Life of the Eternal in act, here and now.

He himself is the Bread of authentic and indestructible existence, though still earthly.

And well, the intimate life of God reaches us in our time.

First step is the adventure of Faith that gives a Vision; irruption of the Spirit that gives rebirth from above.

Impulse that animates a different existence - not empty.

The sign of such adherence is to believe Jesus as Son: man who manifests the divine condition.

The 'hidden' God of the First Testament, an obstacle that seemed insurmountable, now presents Himself in the specifics - without the need for fatuous fires in support.

In order to avoid intimidation, marginalization, annoyance, some church members advocated a kind of alliance between Jesus and the empire.

They proclaimed a Christ who was so vague and uninvolved that He would not scratch anyone.

Some ambitious, hardliners of the ‘life in the spirit’ felt that the time had come to shake off the earthly story of the carpenter's son.

A figure that was considered weak in itself, short-lived, out of place and time; already extinguished.

Jn intends to rebalance the attempt to Proclaim, diluted in compromises.

The evangelist emphasizes that the Risen One is the Cipher and Engine that bears the soul and generates us in today.

He is the same Son of God who sustained a harsh denunciation and several battles with the authorities.

In short, the Holy Spirit does not go after butterflies.

Action of the Spirit [which internalizes and actualizes] and historical memory of Jesus must always be conjugated.

Only in such a frank perspective is it possible to grasp the Truth of the Eternal, and the Truth of man, in all times and circumstances.

In addition: the Father is the Creator of each of our deepest inclinations, to which he affixes an indelible signature.

It manifests itself in an innate instinct, which wants to germinate, find space, express itself.

We have rooted deep inside us a unique, invincible Vocation and plural faces; each one.

We cannot deny ourselves, our Roots - even where an open-faced testimony would be unappealing.

The Truth about the «Person» is consequential.

By Grace, we are repositories of an astounding dignity, which even in error or what is such considered, imparts exceptional Desires.

Truth that still restores Dreams: an ‘unprecedented hope’ that activates enthralling passions.

In vain would we have stillness and happiness by seeking cultural and social concordisms, or by playing roles, characters, tasks that do not belong to us - albeit if they were placating.

We would become external.

Truth: God’s Faithfulness in Christ. And frankness in every choice, with our personality in relationship and situation.

Everything else is calculation - deep disorder, which will leave us disassociated and make us sick within.

[Monday 6th wk. in Easter, May 11, 2026]

(Jn 15:26-16:4a)

Faith in the Master is already eternal life, or rather Life of the Eternal (in action here and now).

He himself is Bread of authentic and indestructible existence, though still earthly.

In short, the intimate life of God reaches us in our time.

First step is the adventure of Faith that gives a Vision; irruption of the Spirit that gives rebirth from above.

Impulse that animates a different - not empty - existence.

The sign of such adherence is believing Jesus as Son: man manifesting the divine condition.

Christ is Bread of life also because His Word is creative, and the path of following Him transmits to us the qualities of indestructible Life.

The outpouring of the Spirit stirs in us the same beating Heart of the Eternal.

We experience this in the deaths and resurrections of daily life and in the long rigmarole of the Vocation, reaffirmed from path to path.

Even in persecution, he who 'sees' the Son has the Life of the Eternal within him.

Life that regenerates and always arranges new births, other premises and questions, different paths, in an uninterrupted; growing form.

The passion for the Friend unites us to Him, Bread: that is, the Revealer of the Truth that satiates men on their journey towards themselves and the world.

Souls that sometimes change skin, opinions, lifestyles.

In the Vision, we are empowered to directly appropriate, thereby drawing in and realising the Newness of God - even in advance, wisely.

Through Him 'we have a part'... in the Father's love for the Son who manifests Himself as personal Lord, as well as in the outgoing dilated life of the authentic Church.

The 'hidden' God of the First Testament, an obstacle that seemed insurmountable, now presents itself in the specifics of Faith, without the need for fatuous fires to support it.

Because the world of God in the soul is different.

One does not enter the Mystery with normal intentions and perfect expectations, let alone success and recognition.

Here (in the Gospel passage) the apostles' incomprehension comes into play.

Indeed, even to us, Jesus' manner of manifestation often seems undecipherable.

Even the Jews [actually: the returning Judaizers in the communities of the late 1st century] were waiting to grasp it in an overt way, perhaps on an occasion of public life.

Instead, even in times of 'glorification', the Master seems to want to trace the outwardly humble inappearance of his earthly ministry.

Many expected sensational fireworks at that time that they considered 'final'. Instead, no yielding to power ideology or religion-show.

So things did not go as expected: doubts were not dispelled; ambiguities, neither.

The titles of Israel's former nationalist and imperial glory did not reappear at all, quite the contrary!

Even today, the choice of Faith is not given to the apparatuses that would guarantee its visibility: no parachutes, no discounts.

Everything then seems to proceed as before, in the summary: to toil for a living and buy, to travel and not, to laugh and cry, to get sick and get well, to work and party... and so on.

Often in seemingly senseless pain; perhaps no decisive breakthroughs.

But in the same old things there is a different Light, planted on a new, immediate Relationship of needy humanity with the Father who regenerates us.

He stimulates new births, to reconnect desires, deep needs, external paths; to increase the intensity of life.

And it is in the mutual knowledge of the roots and grooves of reality that this circle of love between God and his children exists in the first place.

All that has not yet been understood will be called forth by the action of the Spirit. Only reliable impetus, not pointing to vain things.

A bond between man and Heaven, in us - not above.

Friendship that does not primarily contemplate resignation, effort, humiliation; rather, it is reworked in deepening.

This is where the true scope of our hearts - so limited, yet endowed with a mysterious imprint - for the complete, and personal, life of character comes into play.

In order to avoid intimidation, marginalisation, annoyance, some church members advocated a kind of covenant between Jesus and the Empire.

They proclaimed a Christ so vague and uninvolved that he would not scratch anyone.

Some ambitious people, who were the zealots of 'life in the spirit', felt that the time had come to shake off the earthly story of the carpenter's son.

Figure that was considered weak in itself, short-term, out of place and time; already extinguished.

Jn intends to rebalance the attempt at proclamation, diluted in compromises. 

The evangelist emphasises that the Risen One is the cipher and engine that bears the soul and generates us in today.

It was the same Son of God who endured a harsh denunciation and several battles with the authorities.

To the opportunists of his time, the Master had dared to touch positions, vanity, and the bag of commerce.Thus persecuted, tried, vilified, condemned as subversive, and cursed by God.

In short, the Holy Spirit does not go after butterflies.

Action of the Spirit [which internalises and actualises] and historical memory of Jesus must always be combined.

Only in such a frank perspective is it possible to grasp the Truth of the Eternal, and the Truth of Man, in all times and circumstances.

In addition: the Father is the Creator of each of our deepest inclinations, to which he affixes an indelible signature.

It manifests itself in an innate instinct, which wants to germinate, find space, express itself.

We have rooted within us a unique, invincible Vocation and (plural) faces; each one.

We cannot deny ourselves, our Roots - even where an open-faced testimony would be unappealing.

The Truth about each 'Person' is consequential.

By Grace, we are depositaries of an astounding dignity.

Even in error, or what is considered error, it imparts exceptional Desires. 

Truth that still restores Dreams: an unseen hope, which activates enthralling passions.

In vain would we have peace and happiness by seeking cultural and social concord, or by playing roles, characters, tasks that do not belong to us - albeit appeasing.

We become outsiders.

Truth: Faithfulness to God in Christ. And frankness in every choice, with our character in relation and situation.

The rest is calculation - deep disturbance, which will leave us disassociated and sick inside.

To internalise and live the message:

Do you take a stand and face the consequences? When your vocational character is at stake, do you stand up and put your face to it or do you blend in?

Are you being vague, do you value reciprocation and seek tribute or protection from satisfactory synagogues? Or do you wish to unite your life with Christ?

Jesus says to the disciples: “When the Counselor comes, whom I shall send to you from the Father, even the Spirit of truth, who proceeds from the Father, he will bear witness to me; and you also are witnesses, because you have been with me from the beginning” (Jn 15:26-27). This is a great comfort to us in the work of educating in faith, because we know that we are not alone and that our witness is sustained by the Holy Spirit.

It is very important […] to believe strongly in the presence and in the action of the Holy Spirit, to invoke him and to welcome him within you, through prayer and through the sacraments. It is he, in fact, who illumines the mind and warms the heart of the educator so that he or she can pass on the knowledge and love of Jesus. Prayer is the first condition for teaching because by praying we prepare ourselves to leave the initiative to God, to entrust children to him, who knows them before and better than we, and who knows perfectly what their true good is. And at the same time, when we pray we listen to God’s inspiration in order to do our part well, which in any case is our duty and which we are bound to do. The sacraments, especially the Eucharist and Penance, enable us to carry out our educational action in union with Christ, in communion with him and continuously renewed by his forgiveness. Prayer and the sacraments obtain for us that light of truth thanks to which we are able to be at once tender and strong, gentle and firm, silent and communicative at the right time, admonishing and correcting in the right way.

[Pope Benedict, homily at the baptism of some children 8 January 2012]

1. We have often quoted the words of Jesus, who in his farewell discourse addressed to the apostles in the Upper Room promises the coming of the Holy Spirit as a new and definitive defender and consoler: "I will pray to the Father and he will give you another Paraclete to abide with you forever, the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees nor knows him" (Jn 14:16-17). That "farewell discourse", situated in the solemn account of the Last Supper (cf. Jn 13:2), is a source of prime importance for pneumatology, that is, for the theological discipline concerning the Holy Spirit. Jesus speaks of him as the Paraclete, who "proceeds" from the Father, and whom the Father will "send" to the apostles and the Church "in the name of the Son", when the Son himself "goes away", "at the price" of the departure accomplished through the sacrifice of the Cross.

We must take into consideration the fact that Jesus calls the Paraclete the "Spirit of Truth". Also at other times he called him this (cf. Jn 15:26; Jn 16:13).

2. Let us bear in mind that in the same "farewell discourse" Jesus, responding to a question from the apostle Thomas about his identity, asserts of himself: "I am the way, the truth and the life" (Jn 14:6). From this twofold reference to truth that Jesus makes to define both himself and the Holy Spirit, one deduces that if the Paraclete is called by him the "Spirit of truth", this means that the Holy Spirit is the one who, after Christ's departure, will maintain among the disciples the same truth, which he proclaimed and revealed and, indeed, which he himself is. The Paraclete, in fact, is the truth, as Christ is. John says this in his first letter: "It is the Holy Spirit who bears witness, because the Spirit is the truth" (John 5, 6). In the same letter, the Apostle also writes: "We are of God. He who knows God listens to us; he who is not of God does not listen to us. From this we distinguish the spirit of truth and the spirit of error ("spiritus erroris")" (Jn 4:6). The mission of the Son and that of the Holy Spirit meet, are connected and complement each other in the affirmation of truth and the victory over error. The fields of action in which they operate are the human spirit and world history. The distinction between truth and error is the first moment of this work.

3. Remaining in the truth and working in the truth is the essential problem for the apostles and disciples of Christ, both of the early times and of all the new generations of the Church throughout the centuries. From this point of view, the proclamation of the Spirit of truth is of key importance. Jesus says in the Upper Room: "Many things I have yet to say to you, but for the moment (yet) you are not able to bear the burden of them" (John 16: 12). Actually, Jesus' messianic mission lasted only a short time, too short to reveal to the disciples all the contents of Revelation. And not only was time short, but the preparation and intelligence of the listeners was also limited. Several times it is said that the apostles themselves "were astonished within themselves" (cf. Mk 6:52), and "did not understand" (cf. e.g. Mk 8:21), or understood Christ's words and works in a distorted way (cf. e.g. Mt 16:6-11).

Thus the Master's words are explained in all the fullness of their meaning: "When . . . the Spirit of truth will come, he will guide you into all truth" (Jn 16:13).

4. The first confirmation of this promise of Jesus will occur at Pentecost and in the days that follow, as the Acts of the Apostles attest. But the promise does not only concern the apostles and their immediate companions in evangelisation, but also future generations of Christ's disciples and confessors. For the Gospel is destined for all nations and the ever new generations, which will develop in the context of different cultures and the manifold progress of human civilisation. Looking across the whole range of history Jesus says: "The Spirit of truth who proceeds from the Father, he will bear witness to me". "He will 'bear witness', that is, he will show the true meaning of the Gospel within the Church, so that she may proclaim it authentically to the whole world. Always and everywhere, even in the interminable vicissitudes of things that change as they develop in the life of humanity, the "Spirit of truth" will guide the Church "into all truth" (John 16: 13).

5. The relationship between the Revelation communicated by the Holy Spirit and that of Jesus is very close. This is not a different, heterogeneous Revelation. This can be inferred from a detail of the language used by Jesus in his promise: "The Paraclete, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things and bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you" (Jn 14:26). Remembering is the function of memory. By remembering, one returns to what has already been, to what has been said and done, thus renewing past things in the consciousness, and almost reviving them. Since it is especially the Holy Spirit who is the Spirit of a truth charged with divine power, his mission is not exhausted in remembering the past as such: by "remembering" the words, works and the entire salvific mystery of Christ, the Spirit of truth makes him continually present in the Church, ensures that he is ever more "present" in the community of salvation. Thanks to the action of the Holy Spirit, the Church not only remembers the truth, but abides and lives in the truth received from her Lord. This also fulfils Christ's words: "He (the Holy Spirit) will bear witness to me" (Jn 15:26). This witness of the Spirit of truth is thus identified with the ever-living presence of Christ, with the working power of the Gospel, with the increasing implementation of Redemption, with a continuous illustration of truth and virtue. In this way the Holy Spirit "guides" the Church "into all truth".

6. This truth is present, at least implicitly, in the Gospel. What the Holy Spirit will reveal has already been said by Christ. He himself reveals this when, speaking of the Holy Spirit, he emphasises that "he will not speak of himself, but will say whatever he has heard . . . He will glorify me, for he will take of mine and proclaim it to you" (John 16: 13-14). The Christ, glorified by the Spirit of truth, is first of all that same crucified Christ, stripped of everything and almost "annihilated" in his humanity for the redemption of the world. It was precisely by the power of the Holy Spirit that the "word of the Cross" had to be accepted by the disciples, to whom the Master himself had said: "For the moment (yet) you are not able to bear its burden" (Jn 16:12). There stood before those poor men the screen of the Cross. Deep action was needed to make their minds and hearts capable of discovering the "glory of redemption" that was accomplished in the Cross. Divine intervention was needed to convince and inwardly transform each one of them, in preparation, first of all, for the day of Pentecost, and then for the apostolic mission to the world. And Jesus warns them that the Holy Spirit "will glorify me, for he will take of mine and proclaim it to you". Only the Spirit, who, according to St Paul (1 Cor 2:10), "searches the depths of God", knows the mystery of the Son-Werbo in his filial relationship with the Father and in his redemptive relationship with men of all times. He alone, the Spirit of truth, can open human minds and hearts, making them capable of accepting the unfathomable mystery of God and His incarnate, crucified and risen Son, Jesus Christ the Lord.

7. Jesus says again: "The Spirit of truth . . . he will proclaim to you the things to come" (Jn 16:13). What does this prophetic and eschatological projection mean, by which Jesus places under the ray of the Holy Spirit the entire future of the Church, the entire historical journey that she is called to make over the centuries? It means a going forth to meet the glorious Christ, towards whom she is reaching out in the invocation raised by the Spirit: "Come, Lord Jesus!" (Rev 22:17. 20). The Holy Spirit leads the Church towards constant progress in the understanding of revealed truth. He watches over the pursuit of that truth, its preservation, its application to changing historical situations. He arouses and leads the development of everything that serves the knowledge and dissemination of this truth: in particular, the exegesis of Sacred Scripture and theological research, which can never be separated from the direction of the Spirit of truth nor from the Magisterium of the Church, in which the Spirit is always at work.

Everything takes place in faith and through faith, under the action of the Spirit, as is said in the encyclical Dominum et Vivificantem: "The Mysterium Christi in its totality demands faith, since it is this that appropriately introduces man into the reality of the revealed mystery. Leading to the whole truth is accomplished, therefore, in faith and through faith: which is the work of the Spirit of truth and is the fruit of His action in man. The Holy Spirit must be in this the supreme guide of man, the light of the human spirit. This applies to the apostles, eyewitnesses, who must now bring to all men the proclamation of what Christ 'did and taught' and, especially, of his Cross and Resurrection. In a more distant perspective, this is also true for all generations of the Master's disciples and confessors, since they will have to accept with faith and confess with frankness the mystery of God at work in human history, the revealed mystery that explains the definitive meaning of that history" (Dominum et Vivificantem, 6).

In this way the 'Spirit of truth' continually announces future things; He continually shows mankind this future of God, which is above and beyond all "temporal" futures: and thus fills the future of the world with eternal value. Thus the Spirit convinces man, making him realise that, with all that he is, and has, and does, he is called by God in Christ to salvation. Thus the "Paraclete", the Spirit of truth, is the true "Comforter" of man. Thus is the true Defender and Advocate. Thus he is the true Guarantor of the Gospel in history: under his influence the Good News is always "the same" and is always "new"; and in an ever new way he enlightens man's path in the perspective of heaven with "words of eternal life" (Jn 6:68).

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 17 May 1989]

In the life of the Christian there is a "double testimony": that of the Spirit who "opens the heart" by showing Jesus, and that of the person who "by the power of the Spirit" proclaims "that the Lord lives". A testimony, the latter, to be borne "not so much with words" but with "life", even at the cost of "paying the price" of persecution.

Once again, the Holy Spirit and his action in the heart of every believer were the focus of Pope Francis' meditation during the Mass celebrated at Santa Marta on Monday 2 May. The liturgy continues to offer passages from the Acts of the Apostles (16, 11-15) with the first missions of the nascent Church and excerpts of Jesus' discourse during the Last Supper (John, 15, 26 - 16, 4). In particular, in the Gospel of the day we read of Jesus who "speaks of the witness that the Holy Spirit, the Paràclito, will give of him and of the witness that we must also give of him". And Francis emphasised that here the "strongest" word is precisely "witness".

The testimony of the Spirit is also found in the first reading where, while speaking of Lydia, a "purple merchant from the city of Thyatira, a believer in God", it says: "The Lord opened her heart to adhere to Paul's words". But "who touched this woman's heart?" the Pontiff asked himself, recalling that Lidia "felt within herself" something that moved her to say: "This is true! Do I agree with what this man says, this man who bears witness to Jesus Christ'? The answer is "the Holy Spirit". It is he 'who made this woman feel that Jesus was the Lord; he made this woman feel that salvation was in Paul's words; he made this woman feel a testimony'.

It is therefore, the Pope explained, the Spirit who 'bears witness to Jesus. And every time we feel something in our hearts that brings us closer to Jesus, it is the Spirit working within'. Jesus himself explained the action of the Spirit to the disciples: 'He will teach you and remind you of all that I have said'. And the Spirit, Francis added, 'continually opens the heart, as he opened the heart of this lady Lydia', and 'gives witness to hear and remember what Jesus taught us'.

But the testimony, the Pope explained, 'is twofold'. In other words, 'the Spirit gives us the testimony of Jesus and we bear witness with the power of the Spirit of the Lord himself'. Jesus reiterates this again in the Gospel passage: 'When the Paràclito comes, whom I will send to you from the Father, the Spirit of truth, who proceeds from the Father, he will bear witness of me; and you also bear witness, because you are with me from the beginning'. And the Lord, Francis pointed out, insists on the characteristics of this testimony - "perhaps the disciples did not understand well," he observed - adding: "I have told you these things so that you will not be scandalised". He explains, that is, "the price of Christian witness" in a direct manner: "They will drive you out of the synagogues; indeed, the hour is coming when whoever kills you will believe that he is worshipping God".

Therefore, the Pontiff summarised, "the Christian, with the strength of the Spirit, bears witness that the Lord lives, that the Lord is risen, that the Lord is among us, that the Lord celebrates with us his death, his resurrection, every time we approach the altar"; and he does so "in his daily life, with his way of acting". It is, he added, 'the continuing witness of the Christian'. At the same time, the Christian must be aware that sometimes this testimony "provokes attacks, provokes persecutions": they are "the small persecutions", such as those of "gossip" and "criticism", but also the persecutions of which "the history of the Church is full", that is, those that lead "Christians to prison" or "even to giving their lives".

It is therefore the same 'Holy Spirit who made Jesus known to us' who urges us 'to make him known, not so much with words, but with the witness of life'. And, the Pope suggested in conclusion, 'it is good to ask the Holy Spirit to come into our hearts, to bear witness to Jesus' and to pray to him like this: 'Lord, may I not turn away from Jesus. Teach me what Jesus taught. Let me remember what Jesus said and did and, also, help me bear witness to these things. May worldliness, the easy things, the things that come precisely from the father of lies, from the prince of this world, sin, not turn me away from witnessing; may I not be scandalised, as Jesus says, to be a Christian because someone avoids me or there are persecutions."

[Pope Francis, S. Marta homily, in L'Osservatore Romano 02-03/05/2016]

5th Easter Sunday (year A)  [3 May 2026]

First Reading from the Acts of the Apostles (6:1-7)

Paradoxically, the problem facing the early Christian community arose from its very success. In those days, as the number of disciples grew, the Greek-speaking believers began to grumble against the Hebrew-speaking ones (Acts 6:1). The numbers were growing so rapidly that maintaining unity became difficult. Every expanding group faces the same question: how to remain united when numbers grow? Numerous, and therefore diverse. In truth, the seeds of this difficulty were already present on the morning of Pentecost. In Jerusalem lived devout Jews from every nation under heaven (cf. Acts 2:5). On that day there were three thousand conversions, and others followed in the months and years that followed. All were Jews, for the question of non-Jews arose only later, but many were Jews who had come to Jerusalem on pilgrimage from all over the Empire. These were the Jews of the Diaspora known as Hellenists: their mother tongue was neither Hebrew nor Aramaic, but Greek, which was then the common language throughout the Mediterranean. Thus, the young community immediately found itself facing the ‘challenge of languages’. And we know that the language barrier is much more than a mere difficulty of translation: a different mother tongue means different cultures, customs, and ways of understanding life and solving problems. If language is a net cast over the reality of things, a different language is another net, and the meshes rarely coincide. The practical problem that arose in Jerusalem was the care of widows. Looking after them was a rule of the Jewish world and the community did so willingly, but those managing the service, recruited from the majority Hebrew-speaking group, tended to favour the widows of their own group, whilst the Greek-speaking widows were neglected. These complaints could only grow more bitter, until they reached the ears of the apostles. Their reaction can be summarised in three points. First: they summoned the entire assembly of disciples because every decision is taken in plenary session, given that the Church functions synodally: Why then has this been lost? Second: they recalled the objective. It is a matter of remaining faithful to three demands of apostolic life: prayer, the ministry of the Word and the service of the brothers and sisters. Third: they are not afraid to propose a new organisation. Innovation is not unfaithfulness; on the contrary: faithfulness demands the ability to adapt to new circumstances. Being faithful does not mean remaining fixated on the past, for example by entrusting all tasks to the Twelve simply because they were chosen by Jesus. Being faithful means keeping one’s eyes fixed on the goal, and the goal, as the evangelist John writes, is ‘that they may be one so that the world may believe’ (Jn 17:21). Accepting diversity is the challenge facing every growing community, and when conflicts arise, splitting up is not the best solution; this is why the apostles do not consider dividing the community in two, with Greeks on one side and Jews on the other. The Holy Spirit has brought about numerous and diverse conversions and now inspires the apostles to organise themselves differently to deal with the consequences. The Twelve therefore decide to appoint men capable of taking on the task of serving at the tables, since that is where the problem arises: “Brothers, choose seven of you, men respected by all, full of the Holy Spirit and wisdom, and we will entrust this task to them. We, for our part, will devote ourselves to prayer and the ministry of the Word’. The seven chosen all bear Greek names: they were therefore almost certainly part of the group of Greek-speaking Christians, from whom the complaints had come. Thus a new institution is born: these servants of the community do not yet have a title, and the text does not use the word ‘deacon’. Although we must not be too quick to identify these men with today’s deacons, one thing remains clear: in every age, the Spirit inspires innovations that are indispensable for faithfully fulfilling the Church’s various missions and priorities. 

Responsorial Psalm (32/33)

I shall begin where the reading of this psalm ends, for there lies a key to understanding the whole. I return to the penultimate verse, verse 18: “The Lord’s eye is on those who fear him, on those who hope in his love.” Here we discover a beautiful definition of “fear of God”: to fear the Lord is simply to place our hope in his love. The believer, in the biblical sense, is a person full of hope; and if they are so, whatever happens, it is because they know that ‘the earth is full of his love’, as verse 5, which we have just heard, says. Knowing that the Lord’s loving gaze is always upon us is the source of our hope. I should point out that, in the Hebrew text, the name ‘Lord’ is the one revealed to Moses in the burning bush: the four-letter name YHWH which, out of respect, Jews never pronounce, and which means something like ‘I am, I will be with you, from everlasting to everlasting, in every moment of your history’. This name reminds Israel of the care with which God surrounded his people throughout the Exodus. If we translate it as ‘God watches over’, this vigilance is well conveyed. Thus we understand the following verse: ‘to deliver him from death and sustain him in times of famine’ (v. 19). These are allusions to the exodus from Egypt: by leading the people across the sea on dry ground behind Moses, the Lord saved the people from the certain death decreed by the Pharaoh; then, by sending manna from heaven in the desert, he truly nourished his people in times of famine. Then praise flows spontaneously from the heart of those who have experienced God’s care: “Rejoice, O righteous ones, in the Lord; for the upright, praise is beautiful” (v. 1). The expression “the upright” may surprise us, yet it is common in the Bible. One is considered upright/righteous who enters into God’s plan, who is united with God like a well-tuned musical instrument. This is said of Abraham: Abraham believed in the Lord, and it was credited to him as righteousness (Gen 15:6). He had faith, that is, he trusted in God and in his plan. Therefore, we could translate “righteous men”, in Hebrew hassidim, as “the men of the Covenant”, or “the men of God’s merciful plan”: those who have accepted the revelation of God’s benevolence and respond to it by adhering to the Covenant. These titles, “righteous men” and “upright men”, do not denote moral qualities, for the hassid is a man like any other, a sinner like any other, but he lives within the Lord’s Covenant; he lives in trust in the faithful God. And since he has discovered the God of tenderness and faithfulness, quite logically he lives in praise: “Rejoice in the Lord, you righteous; praise is fitting for the upright.” This call to praise was the entrance hymn of a liturgy of thanksgiving. We note in passing an indication of how the psalms were performed and of at least one of the instruments used in the Temple of Jerusalem: this psalm was probably intended to be accompanied by a ten-stringed harp. Singing a new song to the Lord does not mean a song never heard before, but a new song in the sense that words of love, even the most familiar ones, are always new. When lovers say ‘I love you’, they are not afraid to repeat the same words, and yet the wonder is that that song is always new. One more note: “The word of the Lord is upright, and all his works are trustworthy” (v. 4). Contrary to appearances, these are not two separate statements, one concerning the word of God and the other concerning his works, because in the Bible the Word of God is already an act in progress: “God said, and it was done,” repeats the account of creation in the first book of Genesis. It is no coincidence that this psalm has twenty-two verses, corresponding to the twenty-two letters of the Hebrew alphabet: it is a tribute to the Word of God, as if to say that it is the whole of our life, from A to Z. And it is no empty compliment, for Israel recognises that from God’s first word to his people, Israel has simultaneously experienced how the promised Word of liberation is, at the same time, already God’s liberating intervention: in every age, the Word of God calls to freedom, and is at the same time a divine force acting within humanity to secure freedom from all idolatry and all slavery. Finally: “He loves righteousness and justice; the earth is full of the Lord’s love” (v. 5). Here the vocation of the whole of creation is described: God is love, and the earth is called to be a place of love, righteousness and justice. Remember the prophet Micah: ‘O man, it has been taught to you what is good and what the Lord requires of you: to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God’ (Mic 6:8).

Second Reading from the First Letter of Saint Peter the Apostle (2:4–9)

In Hebrew, the same verb is used to mean ‘to build a house’, ‘to found a family’ and ‘to found a society’. For this reason, even in the Old Testament, the prophets readily used the language of building to speak of human society. Isaiah, for example, devised a parable: he compared the kingdom of Jerusalem to a building site (Isaiah 28:16–17). On that site there was a remarkable block of stone that was meant to become the cornerstone of the building, but the architects scorned that block and preferred to use stones of poor quality. This was a way of accusing the authorities of abandoning true values to build society on false ones. Over time, it became customary to apply the term ‘cornerstone’ to the Messiah: he would be able to take over and restore God’s building site. Peter, in turn, develops this comparison to speak of Christ. Jesus, the Messiah, is truly the most precious stone that God has placed at the centre of the building; and all people are called upon to become stones in this spiritual edifice. Those who agree to become one with him are integrated into the structure, becoming supporting elements themselves. But of course this is a choice to be made, and people may also choose the opposite path, that is, to reject the project and even sabotage it. Then everything happens for them as if the keystone were not at the heart of the building: it has remained on the ground, an admirable block but a hindrance on the building site. The stone rejected by the builders has become the cornerstone, a stumbling block and a stone of offence (cf. 1 Pet 2:7–8). Our Baptism was the moment of choice. Since then, we have been integrated into the building of what Peter calls the spiritual temple, as opposed to the stone temple in Jerusalem where animal sacrifices were offered. From the beginning of history, humanity has sought to reach God by worshipping him in the way it believes is worthy of him. Along its journey, the chosen people discovered the true face of God and learnt to live within his Covenant. Little by little, in the light of the prophets’ teaching, it was discovered that the true temple of God is humanity itself, and that the only worship worthy of him is love and service to our brothers and sisters, and no longer animal sacrifices. But this places a tremendous responsibility upon us: the temple in Jerusalem was the sign of God’s presence among his people. Now, the sign of God’s presence visible to the world is us, the Church of Christ. Peter’s words then resound as a vocation: “Like living stones, you too are being built into a spiritual house” (1 Pet 2:5). Peter distinguishes between those who entrust themselves to Christ and those who reject him. ‘Believing’ and ‘rejecting’ are two acts of free will, and those who do not accept Christ, Peter affirms, stumble because they do not obey the Word. This was their destiny (cf. v. 5); this phrase speaks only of the consequence of their free choice, not of predestination by God’s arbitrary decision: the liberating God can only respect our freedom. At the presentation of Jesus in the temple, Simeon had announced to Joseph and Mary: ‘He is here for the fall and the rising again of many in Israel’ (cf. Lk 2:34). Simeon does not speak of a necessity willed by God, but of the consequences of Jesus’ coming. In fact, his presence was for some an occasion of total conversion, whilst others hardened their hearts. Peter concludes: ‘ But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood” (1 Pet 2:9). On the day of our Baptism, grafted into Christ, we became members of Christ, the one true “priest, prophet and king”. United with him, we have become part of his holy people; we have acquired a new citizenship, that of the people of God, and our national anthem is now the Alleluia. Peter concludes by telling us that we are charged with proclaiming the marvellous works of the One who has called us out of darkness into his marvellous light.

From the Gospel according to John (14:1–12)

If Jesus begins by saying, ‘Do not let your hearts be troubled’ (Jn 14:1), it is because the disciples were not hiding their anguish, and one can understand why. They knew they were surrounded by general hostility and sensed that the countdown had begun. This anguish was compounded, at least for some of them, by a terrible disappointment: “We had hoped that he would be the one to redeem Israel” (from the Romans), the disciples of Emmaus would say (cf. Lk 24:21). The apostles shared this political hope; now their leader is about to be condemned and executed, and their illusions are coming to an end. Jesus sets about redirecting their hope: he will not fulfil the expectations his miracles have raised; he will not lead the national uprising against the occupier; on the contrary, he will not cease to preach non-violence. The liberation he has come to bring lies on another plane: he does not wish to fulfil his people’s earthly and political expectation of the Messiah, but to make them understand that he is the one who has always been awaited. He begins by appealing to their faith, that is, to that fundamental attitude of the Jewish people which we read of in all the psalms, for hope can rest firmly only on faith. This is why Jesus returns repeatedly to these words: ‘believe’, ‘let not your hearts be troubled (for) you believe in God’. Yet it is one thing to believe in God—and this is a given—and quite another to believe in Jesus, precisely at the moment when he seems to have definitively lost the battle. For his contemporaries, to accord Jesus the same faith as God required a tremendous leap, and Jesus seeks to help them perceive the profound unity existing between the Father and himself. Here we have the second key theme of this text: “I am in the Father and the Father is in me” (a phrase he repeats twice). And then: “Whoever has seen me has seen the Father”, and this last phrase resonates in a very special way in the light of what will happen a few hours later, for the revelation of the Father reaches its climax when Jesus dies on the cross. As he dies, Jesus continues to love mankind, all mankind, and even forgives his executioners. It would be necessary to dwell on every sentence of this final conversation between Jesus and his disciples, indeed on each of the words laden with the whole of biblical experience: to know, to see, to abide, to go towards. Every word is at the same time an event, a ‘work’. When he says: ‘I am’, to Jewish ears this clearly evokes God himself, and he dares to say: “I am the way, the truth and the life”, identifying himself with God himself. And at the same time, the Father and he are two distinct persons, for Jesus says: “I am the way” (implied: to the Father). No one comes to the Father except through me. Another way of saying “I am the way” or “I am the gate”, as in the discourse on the Good Shepherd. And when we are united with him, the divine plan of our solidarity in Jesus Christ with the whole of humanity is realised. This is truly a mystery, and we struggle greatly to grasp it, yet it is the very essence of God’s merciful plan, which St Augustine calls the “total Christ”. This solidarity in Jesus Christ is present throughout the New Testament. Paul, for example, evokes it when he speaks of the New Adam and also when he says that Christ is the head of the Body of which we are the members. “The whole creation groans and suffers the pains of childbirth until now” (Rom 8:22): the birth of which he speaks is precisely that of the Body of Christ. Jesus himself very often used the expression ‘Son of Man’ to announce the definitive victory of the whole of humanity gathered together as one man. If we take seriously the expression ‘No one comes to the Father except through me’ and if we consider the solidarity existing among all men in Jesus Christ, then we must also say that Christ does not go to the Father without us. This is the meaning of these words of Jesus: “Where I am, there you will be too”, and again, “When I have gone and prepared a place for you, I will come again and take you to be with me”. Paul affirms this in another way when he writes: “Nothing can ever separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus” (Rom 8:39). Jesus concludes with a solemn promise: “Whoever believes in me will do the works that I do.” After all that Jesus has just said about himself, the term “works” certainly does not refer solely to miracles, for throughout the Old Testament, when the word “work” is used in reference to God, it always refers to God’s great work of liberating his people. This means that the disciples are now associated with the work undertaken by God to free humanity from all physical or moral bondage. This promise of Christ encourages us to believe that, even though history shows the enduring presence of many forms of slavery, this liberation is possible and will come to pass. It is up to each of us to make our own contribution.

+Giovanni D’Ercole

Fourth Easter Sunday (year A)  [26 April 2026]

First Reading from the Acts of the Apostles (2:14a, 36–41)

The account of Peter’s speech in Jerusalem on the morning of Pentecost continues, and since he is now filled with the Holy Spirit, he reads, as it were, an open book in God’s plan. Everything appears clear to him; he recalls the prophet Joel who had announced: “I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh” (Joel 2:28), and it is evident to him that we are at the dawn of the fulfilment of this promise. Through Jesus, rejected and put to death by men, yet raised and exalted by God, the Spirit has been poured out upon all flesh, and Jewish pilgrims from every corner of the Roman Empire have come to celebrate the feast of Pentecost, the feast of the gift of the Law. During their journey and even upon arriving at the Temple in Jerusalem, the pilgrims sang psalms and implored God for the coming of the Messiah. Peter sought to open their eyes: the Messiah of whom you speak is that Jesus whom you have crucified, and when he declares Jesus to be Lord and Messiah, the Christ, these statements of his certainly seem very bold. If the man from Nazareth is the expected Messiah, this means that all the hope of Israel rests upon Jesus. Peter’s listeners were struck to the heart, says Luke, and Peter certainly knew how to touch their hearts. What must we do, they ask themselves? The answer is simple: repent to save yourselves from this perverse generation, and to repent, in biblical language, is precisely to turn around, to make a U-turn. There are two paths before us, and we often take the wrong one: we must then return to the right path. Peter makes a simple observation: the generation living at the time of Christ and the apostles was faced with a real challenge, namely to recognise in Jesus the Messiah awaited for centuries. Unfortunately, however, Jesus did not possess the characteristics or fulfil the hopes placed in the Messiah, who was imagined as the liberator of the Jewish people; thus, an error of judgement was made and the path was lost. For this reason, Peter calls on everyone to be converted and invites them to receive Baptism: be baptised in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit promised to you, to your children, and to all those who are far off, whom our Lord God will call. Furthermore, for Jews familiar with the study of the Scriptures, Peter recalls the prophecy of Joel – ‘I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh’ – just as his words echo those of the prophet Isaiah concerning the peace and covenant desired by God with the people of Israel (cf. Is 49:1; 57:19). It was precisely through this Covenant that Israel felt bound to God: they were the chosen people, the son, as the prophet Hosea says (11:1), whilst other peoples seemed far from God. When Isaiah then states that peace is also for those who are far away, he recalls that the chosen people have a mission of peace for all humanity, called to enter into what might be called God’s plan of peace. The author notes that on that day three thousand were baptised. He adds that the three thousand Jews who had become Christians were among those whom Peter called ‘neighbours’. Little by little, throughout the Book of Acts, even those who were far off will join those ‘called’ by God. To them, St Paul will say, in his letter to the Ephesians: you who were once far off have now become neighbours through the blood of Christ. And it is Christ, our peace, for ‘of the two, the Jew and the Gentile’, he has made one (Eph 2:14–18).

Responsorial Psalm (22/23)

We encountered Psalm 22/23 on the Fourth Sunday of Lent.  At the time, I emphasised three points in my commentary: first, the psalms speak of Israel as a whole, even though the speaker uses the first person singular, saying ‘I’; second, to describe its religious experience, Israel uses two comparisons: that of the Levite who finds joy in dwelling in the House of God, and that of the pilgrim who takes part in the sacred meal following the thanksgiving sacrifices. However, one must read between the lines to see that, through these two comparisons, the chosen people feel a sense of wonder and gratitude for God’s gratuitous Covenant. Thirdly, the early Christians recognised in this psalm the privilege of their own experience as the baptised, and Psalm 22/23 became, in the early Church, the hymn for the celebration of Baptism. I shall simply pause at the first verse: “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.” There are many references in the Bible. The prophet Micah prays thus: Lord, with your staff be the shepherd of your people, the flock that belongs to you, so that the people may perceive themselves as God’s inheritance (cf. Mic 7:14). In Psalm 15/16, however, we find the inverse expression: ‘Lord, my portion and my cup; you determine my lot; the portion that falls to me brings me joy; I truly have the finest inheritance.’ When God is compared to a shepherd and Israel to his flock, one dares to think that the chosen people are a treasure to their God, which is a bold notion, and the use of such language is an invitation to trust, for God is portrayed as a good shepherd—that is, the one who gathers, guides, nourishes, cares for, protects and defends his flock, watching over all its needs. The prophet Micah writes that God will gather together all the remnant of Israel (cf. 2:12), and bring them together as a flock, gathering the lame and the scattered sheep. Zephaniah takes up the same theme: I will save the lame sheep (cf. 3:19), I will gather those who are scattered, which means that whenever we sow division, we are working against God. God, the attentive shepherd, shepherd-guide and defender of his flock. We find this frequently in the Psalms, particularly in Psalm 94/95, which is the daily morning prayer in the Liturgy of the Hours, where we read: ‘We are the people he leads, the flock guided by his hand’. In Psalm 77/78 we read that, like a shepherd, God leads his people, drives his flock into the desert, guides them, defends them, reassures them, and Psalm 79/80 begins with an appeal: “Shepherd of Israel: listen, you who lead Joseph, your flock, reveal your strength and come to save us”. It is clear that in difficult times, when the flock—that is, Israel—feels ill-guided, abandoned, mistreated or, worse still, beaten down, the prophets often turn to the image of the good shepherd to restore hope. It is therefore no surprise to find this theme in Second Isaiah, in the Book of the Consolation of Israel: God, like a shepherd, tends his flock; his arm gathers the lambs, carries them close to his heart, and leads the nursing ewes (cf. 40:11), so that along the roads they may still graze; on the barren heights shall be their pastures; they shall neither hunger nor thirst; the scorching wind and the sun shall no longer strike them, for he, full of compassion, will guide them, lead them to living waters (cf. Is. 49:9–10). Finally, Ezekiel also takes up this theme, saying that thus says the Lord God: “I myself will tend my sheep and search for them, just as a shepherd searches for his flock when he is among his scattered sheep; so I will search for my sheep and rescue them from all the places where they were scattered on a day of clouds and thick fog; I will feed them on the mountains of Israel, in the valleys and in all the best places. I will feed them in good pasture, and their grazing grounds will be on the highlands of Israel; there my sheep will lie down in lush pastures and graze in rich pastures. ‘On the mountains of Israel, I myself will tend my flock and let them rest,’ declares the Lord God. ‘The lost sheep I will seek out; the strayed I will bring back; the injured I will bind up; the sick I will strengthen’ (cf. 34:11–16).  Today, in turn, we sing this Psalm 22/23, knowing that Jesus presented himself as the shepherd of the lost sheep, inviting us to place our trust in the tenderness of God the Shepherd. In a time like ours, when our societies are going through days of clouds and gloom, we are invited to contemplate the image of the Good Shepherd and to renew our trust: God, the true Good Shepherd, never abandons us. 

Second Reading from the First Letter of Saint Peter the Apostle (2:20b–25)

Saint Peter addresses a particular social group, slaves, because slavery still existed at that time and, under Roman law, a slave was at the mercy of his master, an object in his hands. It therefore happened that slaves suffered mistreatment at the whim of their masters, and a Christian slave serving a non-Christian master was exposed to even harsher oppression. Peter essentially encourages us to imitate Christ, who was himself a ‘slave out of love’ (cf. Phil 2:7) and who devoted his entire life to the service of all people. How, then, did he behave? When insulted, he did not respond with insults; when made to suffer, he did not threaten, but entrusted himself to the One who judges justly. Saint Peter urges us to endure suffering even when doing good, knowing that it is a grace in God’s eyes to be able to behave like Christ when facing trials. Certainly there is no Christian vocation to suffering, but in suffering there is a call to behave according to the example of Christ. So it is not suffering for the sake of suffering, but imitating Christ, who himself suffered by taking our sins upon himself on the wood of the cross, so that, having died to sin, we might live for righteousness. For by his wounds we have been healed. God has saved us so that we may live for righteousness. We have been healed of our wounds, which are our inability to love and to give, to forgive, to share. Because of original sin, we were far from God and disoriented, wandering like sheep. In Christ, crucified for our sins, we have regained fidelity to God’s plan, and his wounds have healed us. Christ died to bear witness to the truth, remaining faithful to the Father even on the cross. The cross, a place of utter horror and unbridled human hatred, has become the throne of absolute love. In Jesus’ forgiveness of his executioners, we are given the chance to contemplate and believe in God’s love for humanity, revealed in the cross, which can transform and convert us.  The prophet Zechariah reminds us: “They will look upon him whom they have pierced” (cf. 12:10), and this heals us, saves us—that is, it makes us capable once more of loving and forgiving as Christ did. When we allow ourselves to be moved by this absolute love of God, our hearts of stone become hearts of flesh, capable of living as he did. Let us allow ourselves to be transformed by this contagion of mercy so that Christ may continue, through us too, the work of transforming all humanity: He continues to send out disciples “like lambs among wolves” (cf. Lk 10:3; Mt 10:16) so that, following in his footsteps, we may be witnesses everywhere to God’s infinite mercy.  

From the Gospel according to Saint John (10:1-10)

The coherence of this Sunday’s biblical readings is truly evident, for the psalm, the second reading and the Gospel lead us into a sheepfold. The psalm compares God’s relationship with Israel to a shepherd’s care for his flock: “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want; he makes me lie down in green pastures”; in the second reading, Saint Peter speaks of people like lost, wandering sheep, invited to return “to your shepherd, the guardian of your souls”. Here, in the Gospel, we read a passage from the long discourse on the Good Shepherd and a sheepfold. To understand it, we must make the effort to imagine the landscape of the Near East, where the flock is gathered for the night in a well-guarded enclosure and in the morning the shepherd comes to release the sheep to lead them to pasture: a scene very familiar to Jesus’ listeners at the time, firstly because there were many flocks in Israel, and secondly because the Old Testament prophets had taken to comparing God’s relationship with his people to that of a shepherd caring for his flock. In the responsorial psalm we have just heard some passages on this subject, and I would add a reference to the prophet Isaiah, who emphasises God’s care for his people: full of compassion, he ‘will lead them to springs of water’ (49:9–10). Furthermore, it was said of the future Messiah that he would be a shepherd for Israel, but at the same time the prophets never ceased to warn against false shepherds, a real danger to the sheep, and a matter of life and death for the flock. Jesus, in turn, takes up precisely this same theme, highlighting the shepherd’s care for his sheep and the danger of false shepherds—a subject he revisits in this Sunday’s Gospel in the form of two brief, successive parables: that of the shepherd, followed by that of the gate. It is interesting that he takes care to introduce both with the solemn formula ‘Truly, truly, I say to you’, an expression that always introduces something new. But if the theme of the shepherd was well known, where is the novelty? On the other hand, John specifies that these two parables are addressed to the Pharisees: Jesus tells the first, but, as he notes, they did not understand what Jesus meant to say to them, so Jesus continues with the second. The Pharisees did not understand the first, or did not want to understand it, perhaps simply because, quite clearly, Jesus suggests that he himself is this good shepherd capable of bringing happiness to his people, and they suddenly find themselves demoted to the rank of bad shepherds. Is it not that they understood perfectly well what Jesus meant, but could not accept it because that would be to admit that this Galilean is the Messiah, the One sent by God? Jesus bears no resemblance whatsoever to the image they had of him, and this is perhaps why Jesus took care to say, ‘Truly, truly, I say to you’. When he begins a discourse with this opening, one must pay particular attention, for it is equivalent to idiomatic expressions frequently found in the prophets of the Old Testament. Indeed, when the Spirit of God breathes into them words that are hard to understand or accept, the prophets always take care to begin—and sometimes end—their preaching with phrases such as ‘the word of the Lord’ or ‘thus says the Lord’. Although they knew this and were therefore aware that Jesus was speaking of matters of great importance, the Pharisees did not understand or did not wish to understand; nevertheless, Jesus persists, and John helps us to understand this deliberate insistence by noting that “then Jesus said again”. Here we see all of Jesus’ patience, as he tries in every way to convince his listeners: “Truly, truly, I say to you: I am the gate for the sheep” and whoever enters through me will be saved. Different ways to help them understand that he is the Messiah, the Saviour, and that only through him does the flock gain access to true life, life in abundance. We can draw one final lesson from this Gospel: Jesus says that the sheep follow the shepherd because they know his voice, and behind this image, we can discern a reality of the life of faith: our contemporaries will not follow Christ, will not be his disciples, if we do not make the voice of Christ resound, if we do not make the Word of God known. Is this not, once again, Jesus’ heartfelt appeal to make the sound of his voice heard by every means possible? 

+Giovanni D’Ercole