Meditation on the Easter season

1. The Easter Sequence takes up the proclamation of hope that rang out at the solemn Easter Vigil: "The Lord of life was dead; now, alive, he triumphs", and gives it a new impact. These words guide the reflection of our meeting which is taking place in the luminous atmosphere of the Octave of Easter.

Christ triumphs over evil and death. This is the cry of joy that bursts from the heart of the Church during these days. Victorious over death, Jesus offers to those who accept and believe in him the gift of life that dies no longer. His death and his Resurrection therefore constitute the foundations of the Church's faith.

2. The Gospel narratives refer, sometimes in rich detail, to the meetings of the Risen Lord with the women who hurried to the tomb, and later, with the Apostles. As eye-witnesses, it is precisely they who were to be the first to proclaim the Gospel of his death and Resurrection. After Pentecost, they were to affirm fearlessly that what the Scriptures say about the Promised Messiah is fulfilled in Jesus of Nazareth.

The Church, the depository of this universal mystery of salvation, passes it on from generation to generation to the men and women of every time and place. In our time too, with the commitment of believers, we must make the proclamation of Christ, who through the power of his Spirit now lives triumphant, ring out clearly.

3. So that Christians may properly carry out this mandate entrusted to them, it is indispensable that they have a personal encounter with Christ, crucified and risen, and let the power of his love transform them. When this happens, sadness changes to joy and fear gives way to missionary enthusiasm.

John the Evangelist, for example, tells us of the Risen Christ's moving meeting with Mary Magdalene, who, having gone very early to the tomb, finds the sepulchre open and empty. She fears that the body of the Lord may have been stolen, so she is upset and weeps. But suddenly someone whom she supposes to be "the gardener" calls her by name:  "Mary!". She then recognizes him as the Teacher, "Rabboni", and recovering quickly from her distress and bewilderment, runs immediately to announce this news enthusiastically to the Eleven: "I have seen the Lord" (cf. Jn 20: 11-18).

4. "Christ my hope is arisen". With these words, the Sequence highlights an aspect of the paschal mystery that men and women today need to understand more deeply. Perturbed by latent threats of violence and death, people are in search of someone who will give them peace and security. But where can they find peace other than in the innocent Christ who reconciled sinners with the Father?
On Calvary, Divine Mercy manifested his face of love and forgiveness for everyone. In the Upper Room after his Resurrection, Jesus entrusted the Apostles with the task of being ministers of this mercy, a source of reconciliation among men and women.

In her humility, St Faustina Kowalska was chosen to proclaim this message of light that is particularly fitting for the world of today. It is a message of hope that invites us to abandon ourselves in the hands of the Lord. "Jesus, I trust in you!", the saint liked to repeat.

May Mary, Woman of Hope and Mother of Mercy, obtain for us to personally encounter her Son, who died and rose! May she make of us tireless workers for his mercy and his peace.

[Pope John Paul II, General Audience 14 April 2004]

In the last few weeks, our reflection has been moving, so to speak, within the orbit of the Paschal Mystery. Today we meet the one who, according to the Gospels, was the first to see the Risen Christ: Mary Magdalene. The Sabbath had ended not long before. On the day of the Passion, there had not been enough time to complete the funeral rites. For this reason, at that sorrow-filled dawn, the women went to Jesus’ tomb with aromatic oils. The first to arrive was Mary Magdalene. She was one of the disciples who had accompanied Jesus from Galilee, putting herself at the service of the burgeoning Church. Her walk to the sepulchre mirrors the fidelity of many women who spend years in the small alleyways of cemeteries remembering someone who is no longer there. The most authentic bonds are not broken even in death: there are those who continue loving even if their loved one is gone forever.

The Gospel describes Magdalene by immediately highlighting that she was not a woman easily given to enthusiasm (cf. Jn 20:1-2, 11-18). In fact, after her visit to the sepulchre, she returns disappointed to the Apostles’ hiding place. She tells them that the stone has been removed from the entrance to the sepulchre, and her first hypothesis is the simplest that one could formulate: someone must have stolen Jesus’ body. Thus, the first announcement that Mary makes is not the one of the Resurrection, but of a theft perpetrated by persons unknown while all Jerusalem slept.

The Gospels then tell of Magdalene’s second visit to Jesus’ sepulchre. She was stubborn! She went, she returned ... because she was not convinced! This time her step is slow and very heavy. Mary suffers twice as much: first for the death of Jesus, and then for the inexplicable disappearance of his body.

It is as she is stooping near the tomb, her eyes filled with tears, that God surprises her in the most unexpected way. John the Evangelist stresses how persistent her blindness is. She does not notice the presence of the two angels who question her, and she does not become suspicious even when she sees the man behind her, whom she believes is the custodian of the garden. Instead, she discovers the most overwhelming event in the history of mankind when she is finally called by her name: “Mary!” (v. 16).

How nice it is to think that the first apparition of the Risen One — according to the Gospels — took place in such a personal way! To think that there is someone who knows us, who sees our suffering and disappointment, who is moved with us and calls us by name. It is a law which we find engraved on many pages of the Gospel. There are many people around Jesus who search for God, but the most prodigious reality is that, long before that, in the first place there is God, who is concerned about our life, who wants to raise it, and to do this, he calls us by name, recognizing the individual face of each person. Each person is a love story that God writes on this earth. Each one of us is God’s love story. He calls each of us by our name: he knows us by name; he looks at us; he waits for us; he forgives us; he is patient with us. Is this true or not true? Each of us experiences this.

And Jesus calls her: “Mary!”: the revolution of her life, the revolution destined to transform the life of every man and every woman begins with a name which echoes in the garden of the empty sepulchre. The Gospels describe Mary’s happiness. Jesus’ Resurrection is not a joy which is measured with a dropper, but a waterfall that cascades over life. Christian life is not woven of soft joys, but of waves which engulf everything. You too, try to imagine, right now, with the baggage of disappointments and failures that each of us carries in our heart, that there is a God close to us who calls us by name and says to us: ‘Rise, stop weeping, for I have come to free you!”. This is beautiful.

Jesus is not one who adapts to the world, tolerating in it the persistence of death, sadness, hatred, the moral destruction of people.... Our God is not inert, but our God — allow me to say — is a dreamer: he dreams of the transformation of the world, and accomplished it in the mystery of the Resurrection.

Mary would like to embrace her Lord, but he is already oriented towards the heavenly Father, whereas she is sent to carry the news to the brethren. And so that woman, who, before encountering Jesus, had been at the mercy of evil (cf. Lk 8:2) now becomes the Apostle of the new and greatest hope. May her intercession also help us live this experience: in times of woe and in times of abandonment, to listen to the Risen Jesus who calls us by name and, with a heart full of joy, to go forth and proclaim: “I have seen the Lord!” (v. 18). I have changed my life because I have seen the Lord! I am now different than before. I am another person. I have changed because I have seen the Lord. This is our strength and this is our hope.

[Pope Francis, General Audience 17 May 2017]

(Mt 28:8-15)

The Gospels do not offer entirely reconcilable chronicle data about the unfolding of events after the discovery of the «empty tomb», but the Message of those traces (of the first events) is self-evident.

No mausoleum, no relics... but rather the ability to see the graves open - and to guess life amidst footsteps of death: dangerous Truth.

Hence the unleashing of engaging enthusiasm.

Two processions depart from the empty crypt: sounding Messengers of unheard-of life, though uncredited, and sepulcher guards:

Welcoming aimed at witnessing, and rejection of those who do not read the meaning-filled 'sign'.

The gendarmes of the ancient world go from pit to pit; dragging behind them the same burial chamber.

In fact, to the priests they announce the empty vault as if it were a factual little story, controllable, of mere chronicle (v.11) that then turns to rumor, to legend (v.15).

By the time Mt writes there were already fervent discussions between Jews and Christian converts from Judaism.

Believers felt fulfilled in Christ - in this way also able to spread this Word-event.

Disputes were heated: the Gospel passage places us in a reality that dragged on throughout most of the first century.

As time went on - even before the separation from the institutional synagogue - the very existence of the fraternities, their lifestyle and witness, became a denunciation against the authoritarian spirit, greed, teaching and roles of religious leaders (e.g., Acts 3:1-8).

Amidst a thousand upheavals, the new world was beginning - heralded with high forehead.

The waiting was over: one just had to be convinced of reality - no more dreaming of a future that while proceeding would return to the past, or adhere to conformity and self-interest.

Mt's beginning and ending recall each other.

Jesus is the Immanu-'El of the ancient Scriptures: God-With-us. The hope of the outcasts from the round, and of wavering ones - always given over to the mercy of others, enslaved, and subjugated.

A radical change was expected in the unlivable situation of injustice and social collapse, spiritually dull and habitual - endured by the wretched in the humiliation of the whole being.

By getting busy in the Announcement, Women do not stumble upon a packaged Christ, to be impersonally conveyed.

It’s in their going the Way that a new Spirit is kindled - with the contagious jubilation of Exodus.

The Encounter with God's world becomes a decisive event because all (first without-voice) receive a fervent invitation to the preaching and living of the Beatitudes [the Mount of Galilee, v.10: the "periphery" of life resuming its normal activity; land of Jesus' ministry and disciples' following].

Now as limpid, complete and pure protagonists to whom the Mystery does not resist. 

In short, for us: if someone does not take the field but shuns, does not transmit, or considers neutral the News of the victory of life over death, it is in danger of becoming a humbug, nonsense.

Instead, now it is the Risen One who comes to meet the revived ones (v.9) - just as he had done with the one born blind (Jn 9:35).

We are no longer the excommunicated, or prolongers of the tombs’ world, nor the merely awakened.

We are those who convey impetus, verve, character, a sense of fullness and Mystery that saves - heralds of open contradiction.

Progeny springing not from the grave, but from God's world - the source of indestructible being, in which we finally stand firm.

«Rejoice!» (v.9).

In community, cheerfulness for the sense of personal esteem and relational depth related to the new pattern of life overcomes fears.

The first realities of communion [the «Women»] make their own the same Path of the Master [clasping and worshiping his «Feet»].

A conscious and autonomous proposal arises.

The Announcement of a startling experience is born: in the Living One we are ourselves, and the Gift of self - whatever it may be, even previously despised - produces personal completeness and coexistence.

He who spends what he authentically is, values his story: he does not waste existence, but recovers, realizes and sublimates it.

New people flourish, inwardly reborn and no longer left to their own devices.

Seeing far ahead and proceeding in the same 'footsteps' as the Lord, all the unsteady ones overcame the sense of unworthiness inculcated by ancient religion.

Aware of esteem, personal quality, and other resources, the early believers immediately demonstrated a marked aptitude for frankness.

Even the little ones gained courage - recovering the opposite sides of themselves. And no longer suffocated by fears of bogus authority, capable only of retaliation.

Obviously the ancient world wanted to perpetuate itself, and defended itself with pirouettes and lies. As still today, by handing out favours (vv.12-15).

To internalize and live the message:

What inner and outer powers accentuate the disturbances and fight your ability to proclaim the Good News?

Angel of Counsel and ministers of Christ

However the Angel of the Resurrection also calls to mind another meaning. Indeed, we must remember that as well as describing Angels, spiritual creatures endowed with intelligence and a will, servants and messengers of God, the term "Angel" is also one of the most ancient titles attributed to Jesus himself. We read, for example, in Tertullian: "He", that is, Christ, "was also the «Angel of counsel», that is, a herald, a term that denotes an office rather than a nature. Effectively he was to proclaim to the world the Father's great plan for the restoration of man" (cf. De Carne Christi, 14). This is what the ancient Christian writer said. Jesus Christ, the Son of God was therefore also called the "Angel of God the Father": he is the Messenger par excellence of God's love. Dear friends, let us now consider what the Risen Jesus said to the Apostles: "As the Father has sent me, even so I send you" (Jn 20: 21); and he communicated his Holy Spirit to them. This means that just as Jesus was the herald of God the Father's love, we too must be heralds of Christ's charity: let us be messengers of his Resurrection, of his victory over evil and death, heralds of his divine love.
By our nature, of course, we remain men and women, but we have received the mission of "Angels", messengers of Christ.

(Pope Benedict, Regina Coeli, April 5, 2010)

[Easter Monday, April 21, 2025]

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

In the light of Easter that we are celebrating throughout this week I renew my most cordial greetings of peace and joy. As you know, the Monday after the Sunday of the Resurrection is traditionally known as "Lunedì del Angelo". It is very interesting to reflect on this reference to the "Angel". Of course, we think straight away of the Gospel narratives of Jesus' Resurrection, in which a messenger of the Lord appears. St Matthew writes: "And behold, there was a great earthquake; for an Angel of the Lord descended from Heaven and came and rolled back the stone, and sat upon it. His appearance was like lightning, and his raiment white as snow" (Mt 28: 2-3). All the Evangelists, then, explain that when the women went to the tomb and found it open and empty, it was an Angel who told them that Jesus had risen. In Matthew, this messenger of the Lord says to them: "Do not be afraid; for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified. He is not here; for he has risen, as he said". (Mt 28: 5-6); he then shows them the empty tomb and charges them to take the message to the disciples. In Mark, the Angel is described as "a young man... dressed in a white robe", who gives the women the same message (cf. 16: 5-6). Luke speaks if "two men ... in dazzling apparel", who remind the women that Jesus had told them long before of his death and Resurrection (cf. Lk 24: 4-7). John also speaks of "two Angels in white"; it is Mary Magdalene who sees them as she weeps by the tomb and they ask her: "Woman, why are you weeping?" (Jn 20: 11-13).

However the Angel of the Resurrection also calls to mind another meaning. Indeed, we must remember that as well as describing Angels, spiritual creatures endowed with intelligence and a will, servants and messengers of God, the term "Angel" is also one of the most ancient titles attributed to Jesus himself. We read, for example, in Tertullian: "He", that is, Christ, "was also the "Angel of counsel', that is, a herald, a term that denotes an office rather than a nature. Effectively he was to proclaim to the world the Father's great plan for the restoration of man" (cf. De Carne Christi, 14). This is what the ancient Christian writer said. Jesus Christ, the Son of God was therefore also called the "Angel of God the Father": he is the Messenger par excellence of God's love. Dear friends, let us now consider what the Risen Jesus said to the Apostles: "As the Father has sent me, even so I send you" (Jn 20: 21); and he communicated his Holy Spirit to them. This means that just as Jesus was the herald of God the Father's love, we too must be heralds of Christ's charity: let us be messengers of his Resurrection, of his victory over evil and death, heralds of his divine love.
By our nature, of course, we remain men and women, but we have received the mission of "Angels", messengers of Christ: it is given to all in Baptism and in Confirmation. Through the sacrament of Orders, priests, ministers of Christ, receive it in a special way. I wish to emphasize this in this Year for Priests.

Dear brothers and sisters, let us now turn to the Virgin Mary, invoking her as Regina Caeli, Queen of Heaven. May she help you to accept to the full the grace of the Paschal Mystery and to become courageous and joyful messengers of Christ's Resurrection.

[Pope Benedict, Regina Coeli 5 April 2010]

1. The great announcement of the Resurrection of Jesus also rings out loudly this Easter Monday, which commemorates the heavenly messenger's meeting with the women who had hastened to the tomb. "Do not be afraid; for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified. He is not here; for he has risen, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay" (Mt 28,5-6).

From the empty tomb the Angel's message spread throughout the world and reached every corner of the earth; it is a message of hope for all. Ever since the crucified Nazarene rose at dawn on the third day, it is life, no longer death, that has the last word! In the risen Lord God revealed the fullness of his love for all humanity.

2. First the women, then the disciples and Peter himself note the consoling truth:  "This Jesus God raised up, and of that we all are witnesses" (Acts 2,32).

Dear brothers and sisters, like them and with them, we too are called to spread this "good" news among the men and women of our time:  "Christ my hope is arisen" (Easter Sequence).

How I long for the Easter announcement to constantly strengthen every baptized person in the faith! How I long for peace, a gift of the risen Christ, to reach every human heart and restore hope to all who are oppressed and suffering!

3. May Mary, a silent witness of the Death and Resurrection of her Son Jesus, help us to believe totally in this mystery of salvation which, received with deep faith, can change life. May she enable us to transmit it with joy, as consistent and courageous disciples of the risen Lord, to all those we come across.

[Pope John Paul II, Regina Coeli 1 April 2002]

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

Good Morning and a Happy Easter to you all! I thank you for coming here today too in such large numbers, to share in the joy of Easter, the central mystery of our faith. May the power of Christ’s Resurrection reach every person — especially those who are suffering — and all the situations most in need of trust and hope.

Christ has fully triumphed over evil once and for all, but it is up to us, to the people of every epoch, to welcome this victory into our life and into the actual situations of history and society. For this reason it seems to me important to emphasize what we ask God today in the liturgy. “O God, who give constant increase/to your Church by new offspring,/grant that your servants may hold fast in their lives/to the Sacrament they have received in faith” (Collect, Monday within the Octave of Easter).

It is true, yes, Baptism that makes us children of God and the Eucharist that unites us to Christ must become life, that is, they must be expressed in attitudes, behaviour, gestures and decisions. The grace contained in the Sacraments of Easter is an enormous potential for the renewal of our personal existence, of family life, of social relations. However everything passes through the human heart: if I let myself be touched by the grace of the Risen Christ, if I let him change me in that aspect of mine which is not good, which can hurt me and others, I allow the victory of Christ to be affirmed in my life, to broaden its beneficial action. This is the power of grace! Without grace we can do nothing. Without grace we can do nothing! And with the grace of Baptism and of Eucharistic Communion I can become an instrument of God’s mercy, of that beautiful mercy of God.

To express in life the sacrament we have received: dear brothers and sisters, this is our daily duty, but I would also say our daily joy! The joy of feeling we are instruments of Christ’s grace, like branches of the vine that is Christ himself, brought to life by the sap of his Spirit!

Let us pray together, in the name of the dead and Risen Lord and through the intercession of Mary Most Holy, that the Paschal Mystery may work profoundly within us and in our time so that hatred may give way to love, falsehood to truth, revenge to forgiveness, and sadness to joy.

[Pope Francis, Regina Coeli 1 April 2013]

Palm Sunday (year C) [13 April 2025].

God bless us and may the Virgin protect us. Let us enter Holy Week with Jesus welcomed in Jerusalem and let us prepare ourselves in the Easter Triduum to follow him on the path of passion death and resurrection. 

*First reading from the book of the prophet Isaiah (50:4-7)

This text is taken from the part of the book of Isaiah that collects the so-called 'Servant Songs', which are particularly important for two reasons: first, because of the message Isaiah wanted to convey to his contemporaries, and because they were applied by the early Christians to Christ, although Isaiah was certainly not thinking of Jesus when he wrote this text probably in the 6th century BC during his exile in Babylon. To the people exiled under very harsh conditions, who were in danger of succumbing to great discouragement, he reminds them that Israel is the servant of God sustained and nourished every morning by the Word, but persecuted because of their faith and, in spite of everything, able to withstand every trial. He clearly describes the extraordinary relationship that unites with his God the Servant (Israel) whose main characteristic is listening to the Word, 'the open ear', as Isaiah writes. Listening to the Word, letting oneself be instructed by it, means living in trust. Listening is a word that in the Bible means trusting, because there are two attitudes between which our existence continually oscillates: trust in God, serene abandonment to His will because we know from experience that His will is only good; or mistrust, suspicion of divine intentions and rebellion in the face of trials, a rebellion that can lead us to believe that He has abandoned us or, worse, that He can find satisfaction in our suffering. All the prophets repeat this invitation: 'Listen, Israel' or 'listen today to the Word of God'. On their lips, the exhortation 'listen' is an invitation to trust in God, whatever happens. In this regard, St Paul will explain that God makes everything contribute to the good of those who love and trust him (cf. Rom 8:28) because out of every evil, difficulty, trial, he knows how to draw good; out of every hatred, he opposes an even stronger love; in every persecution, he gives the strength of forgiveness; out of every death, he gives birth to life. The whole Bible is the narration of the story of a mutual trust: God trusts his servant and entrusts him with a mission; in return, Israel accepts the mission with trust. And it is this trust that gives him the strength to resist all the opposition he will inevitably encounter. In this text, the mission consists in being able to "address a word to the challenged" by testifying to the faithfulness of the Lord who gives the necessary strength and the appropriate language. Indeed, it is the Lord himself who nourishes this trust, the source of all boldness in the service of others: "The Lord God opened his ear to me and I did not resist, I did not draw back".  Everything then becomes a gift: the mission, the strength and the trust that makes one unwavering. This is the characteristic of the believer: recognising that everything is a gift from God. When he then makes the permanent gift of the Lord's strength bear fruit, the believer is able to face everything, even persecution, which is never absent, and indeed every authentic prophet who speaks on behalf of God is rarely recognised and appreciated in life.Isaiah invites his contemporaries to resist: the Lord has not forsaken you, on the contrary, he has entrusted you with his mission and do not be surprised if you are mistreated because the Servant who listens to the Word of God and puts it into practice, certainly becomes uncomfortable and with his conversion provokes others: some listen to his call, others reject him and, in the name of their good reasons, persecute him. This is why the Servant draws strength only from the One who enables him to face everything: "I have presented my back to the scourgers, my cheeks to those who plucked out my beard ... the Lord God assists me so I will not be shamed". Isaiah then uses a common expression in Hebrew: 'for this I make my face hard as stone' which expresses determination and courage; not pride or conceit, but pure confidence because he knows where his strength comes from.  Jesus is a perfect portrait of the Servant of God at the heart of persecution and also at the moment when the acclamations of the Palm Sunday crowd marked and accelerated his condemnation. St Luke takes up exactly this expression when he writes 'Jesus hardened his face to go to Jerusalem' (Lk 9:51), which in our translations becomes 'Jesus resolutely took the road to Jerusalem'.

*Responsorial Psalm from Psalm 21(22) (2:8-9,17-20,22b-24)

Psalm 21/22 holds some surprises, starting with the opening words: "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?", much quoted, which, taken out of context, is misinterpreted. To understand its true meaning, one must read the entire psalm, composed of thirty-two verses, which closes with a thanksgiving: "I will proclaim your name to my brothers, I will praise you in the midst of the assembly". He who in the first verse cries out "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" thanks God in the end for the salvation he has received. Not only has he not died, but he gives thanks precisely because God has not forsaken him. At first glance, this psalm seems to be written for Jesus: "They have dug out my hands and my feet. I can count all my bones," a clear allusion to the crucifixion he experienced under the cruel eyes of the executioners and the crowd: "A pack of dogs surrounds me, a band of evildoers encircles me...they mock me who see me...they divide my garments, on my tunic they cast lots." Actually, it was not written for Jesus Christ, but composed for the exiles who had returned from Babylon, and it compares their deliverance to the resurrection of a condemned man, since the exile was a real death sentence for Israel who ran the risk of being erased from history. Now he is compared here to a condemned man who risked death on the cross, a torture that was very common at the time: he suffered outrages, humiliation, the nails, abandonment in the hands of the executioners, but miraculously emerges unharmed. In other words: having returned from exile, Israel indulges in the joy he proclaims to all, shouting louder than when he wept in his anguish. The reference to the crucifixion is thus not the focus of the psalm, but serves to emphasise the thanksgiving of Israel, which in the midst of its anguish never ceased to cry out for help and never doubted for a moment. The great cry "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" is certainly a cry of anguish in the face of God's silence, but it is not a cry of despair, nor does it express doubt; rather, it is the prayer of one who suffers and dares to cry out his pain. How much light this psalm sheds on our prayer in times of suffering of any kind: we have the right to cry out, and the Bible encourages us to do so. Returning from exile, Israel remembers the past pain, the anguish, the apparent silence of God when he felt abandoned in the hands of his enemies, yet he continued to pray. Prayer is clear evidence of his constant trust; he kept remembering the Covenant and the benefits he had received from God. In its entirety, this psalm resembles an 'ex-voto' as when one is in grave danger, one prays and makes a vow and, when grace is obtained, fulfils the promise by taking the ex-voto to a church or shrine.  Psalm 21/22 describes the horror of the exile, the anguish of Israel and Jerusalem besieged by Nebuchadnezzar, the sense of helplessness in the face of men's hatred that provokes an ardent supplication: 'My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?' and finally gratitude to God for one's salvation: 'I will proclaim your name to my brothers, I will praise you in the midst of the assembly. Praise the Lord you his faithful".  Palm Sunday does not include the last verses, but we hear them often in the liturgy: "The poor shall eat and be satisfied, they shall praise the Lord who seek him; your hearts shall live forever! All the ends of the earth shall remember and return to the Lord; all the families of the peoples shall bow down before you ... They shall proclaim his righteousness; to the people that are born they shall say, 'Behold the work of the Lord'."

*Second Reading from the Second Letter of St Paul to the Philippians (2:6-11)

This text is often called the Hymn of the Letter to the Philippians, because one gets the impression that Paul did not write it in his own hand, but quoted a hymn in use in the liturgy. First of all, note the insistence on the theme of the Servant: "he emptied himself by assuming the condition of a servant": the first Christians, faced with the scandal of the cross, often meditated on the Servant Songs contained in the book of Isaiah, because they offered food for thought for understanding the mystery of the person of Christ. "Christ Jesus, though he was in the condition of God, did not consider it a privilege to be like God". It is tempting to read: although he was in the condition of God, although in reality, it is the other way around, and one must therefore read: 'precisely because he was in the condition of God, he did not consider it a privilege to be like God'. One of the dangers of this text is the temptation to read it in terms of reward, as if the reasoning were: Jesus behaved admirably and therefore received an extraordinary reward. Grace, as its very name suggests, is gratuitous, but we are always tempted to speak of merits. The wonder of God's love is that He does not wait for our merits to fill us; this is the discovery that the men of the Bible made through Revelation. Therefore, to be faithful to the text, we must read it in terms of gratuitousness. We risk misunderstanding it if we forget that everything is God's gift, everything is grace, as Teresa of the Child Jesus used to say. The gratuitous gift of God is for St Paul an obvious truth, a conviction that permeates all his letters, so obvious that he does not even feel the need to reiterate it explicitly, so that we can summarise his thought in this way: God's plan, the design of his mercy is to make us enter into his intimacy, his joy and his love, an absolutely gratuitous plan. There is nothing surprising in this, since it is a project of love, a gift to be accepted: it is participation in the divine life, indeed with God, everything is a gift. One excludes oneself from this gift when one assumes an attitude of pretension, if one behaves like the progenitors in the Garden of Eden who appropriated the forbidden fruit. Jesus, on the contrary, did nothing more - "becoming obedient" - than welcome God's gift without demanding it. "Although he was in the condition of God, he did not consider it a privilege to be like God" and it is precisely because he is of divine condition that he does not claim anything. He knows what gratuitous love is, he knows that it is not right to claim, he does not consider it good to claim the right to be like God. It is the same situation as in the episode of the temptations (see the gospel of the first Sunday of Lent): Satan proposes to Jesus only things that are part of God's plan, but Jesus refuses to appropriate them by his own strength. because he wants to entrust himself to the Father so that He can give them to him. The tempter provokes him: "If you are the Son of God, you can afford everything, your Father cannot refuse you anything: turn stones into bread when you are hungry... throw yourself down from the temple, he will protect you... worship me, and I will give you dominion over the whole world". Jesus, however, expects everything from God alone: he has received the Name that is above every other name, the Name of God. For to say that Jesus is Lord is to affirm that he is God. In the Old Testament, the title 'Lord' was reserved for God and so was genuflection 'that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend'. Here is an allusion to a passage from the prophet Isaiah: "Before me every knee shall bow, let every tongue proclaim, 'Jesus Christ is Lord!' shall swear an oath" (Is 45:23). Jesus lived in humility and trust; trust that St Paul calls obedience. To obey, in Latin 'ob-audire', literally means to put the ear (audire) before (ob) the word: it is the attitude of perfect dialogue, without shadows, it is total trust.  The hymn concludes: 'Let every tongue proclaim that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. Glory is the revelation of infinite love made person. In other words, we too, like the centurion, seeing Christ love us supremely, accepting to die to reveal to us how far God's love goes, proclaim, 'Yes, indeed, this was the Son of God'... because God is love.

* Gospel. Passion of Jesus Christ according to St Luke (22.14 - 23.56)

Every year, for Palm Sunday, the account of the Passion returns in one of the three synoptic gospels; this year, it is that of Luke and I confine myself to commenting on the episodes proper to this gospel. While it is true that the four Passion narratives are similar, when one takes a closer look, one realises that each evangelist has particular accents, and this is because they are all witnesses to the same event and they each recount the events from their own point of view, and the Passion of Christ is recounted in four different ways: they do not all choose the same episodes and phrases. Here, then, are the episodes and words that we find only in Saint Luke. 1.After the Last Supper, before going to Gethsemane, Jesus had foretold to Peter his triple denial. In truth, all the gospels narrate this, but only Luke records this sentence of Jesus: "Simon, Simon, behold, Satan has sought you out to sift you like wheat; but I have prayed for you, that your faith may not fail. And thou, when thou art converted, confirm thy brethren" (22:32). A gentleness of Jesus, which will help Peter after his betrayal to get up again instead of despairing. Again only Luke notes the gaze Jesus casts on Peter after his denial: three times in succession, Peter states that he does not know him in the high priest's house. Immediately afterwards Jesus, turning around, fixed his gaze on Peter and here we hear the echo of the first reading where Isaiah writes: 'The Lord God has given me a disciple's tongue, that I may speak a word to the distrustful'. This is what Jesus wants to do with Peter, to comfort him in advance so that when he denies him he does not fall into despair. Another episode in this gospel is Jesus before Herod Antipas. At Jesus' birth, Herod the Great reigned over the whole territory under the authority of Rome, but at his death (in 4 BC.), the territory was divided into several provinces, and at the time of Jesus' death (in the year 30 AD), Judea, i.e. the province of Jerusalem, was ruled by a Roman procurator, while Galilee was under the authority of a king recognised by Rome, who was a son of Herod the Great: his name was Herod Antipas, who had long wanted to meet Jesus and hoped to see him perform a miracle. Now he asks him many questions, but Jesus remains silent. Herod insults and taunts him by having him clothed in a shining mantle and sends him back to Pilate, strengthening the friendship between Herod and Pilate that day. 

2.There are then three sentences that we find only in Luke's Passion narrative. Two words of Jesus and, if Luke notes them, it is because they reveal what is important to him: the first is his prayer while the Roman soldiers are crucifying him: 'Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do'. But what are they doing? They have expelled the Holy One par excellence from the Holy City; they have cast out their God, putting the Master of life to death; the Sanhedrin, the court of Jerusalem, has condemned God in the name of God. And what does Jesus do instead? He forgives his enemies by showing how far God's love goes. He who has seen me has seen the Father, Jesus had said the day before. The second sentence: 'Today with me you will be in Paradise'. If you are the Messiah, he is mocked by the leaders... If you are the king of the Jews, he is mocked by the Roman soldiers... If you are the Messiah, he is insulted by one of the two evildoers crucified with him. The other crucified with him begins to tell the truth: we deserve this punishment but not Jesus, and turns to Jesus: 'remember me when you enter your kingdom'. He recognises Jesus as the Saviour, he invokes him with a humble and trusting prayer: he seems to have understood everything. Finally, only Luke reports this last sentence: "Already the Sabbath lights were shining" (23:54) thus concludes the Passion narrative with an insistent evocation of the Sabbath. He speaks of the women who had followed Jesus all the way from Galilee and now went to the tomb to observe how he had been buried, bringing aromas and perfumes for the burial rites. The lights of the Sabbath were already shining: everything ends on a note of light and peace: the Sabbath is a foreshadowing of the world to come, the day on which God had rested from all the work of creation (cf. Genesis); the day on which, out of fidelity to the Covenant, the Scriptures were scrutinised in anticipation of the new creation. Luke makes us understand that in the labour of Christ's Passion the new humanity was born, which is the beginning of the kingdom of grace. The risen crucified one shows the way forward: the way of love and forgiveness at any cost.

+Giovanni D'Ercole

5th Sunday in Lent (year C) [6 April 2025]

God bless us and may the Virgin protect us. Tomorrow, Wednesday 2 April, will be the 20th anniversary of the death of St John Paul II. We remember him in prayer, invoking his protection and intercession.

*First Reading From the book of the prophet Isaiah (43:16-21)

At first glance, this text consists of two mutually contradictory parts: the first is a reference to the past, to leaving Egypt, while in the second, the prophet exhorts us to leave the past behind. But which past is it? Let us try to better understand by examining these two parts one after the other. The incipit is as always solemn: "Thus says the Lord" to introduce words of great importance which are immediately followed by the reference to the famous passage in the sea, the miracle of the Sea of Rushes during the Hebrews' flight from Egypt: "The Lord opened a way in the sea and a path in the midst of mighty waters". The reference to the memorable night of the deliverance from Egypt narrated in chapter 14 of the book of Exodus always returns. In the first reading, Isaiah offers further details: "the Lord brought forth chariots and horses, army and heroes at once, and they all lay dead and never rose again, they went out like a lamp. God saved his people by destroying the Egyptians and it is interesting to note that Isaiah uses the name 'Lord' (the Tetragrammaton YHVH), a name that qualifies the God of Sinai as the deliverer of his people. Here is God's work in the past that constitutes the source of hope for Israel's future, and Isaiah points out: 'Behold, I do a new thing'. To understand what this is all about and to whom the prophet foretells a new world, we need to go back to the historical context. The deuteroIsaiah, whom we are reading here, lived in the 6th century BC, during the exile in Babylon (from 587 to 538 BC), a period marked by a terrible trial: deported to Babylon by Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon, who had defeated the small kingdom of Judah of which Jerusalem was the capital, the Jews hoped one day to escape from Babylon, but there were serious difficulties because they had to cross the Syrian desert, hundreds of kilometres long and in terrible conditions for fugitives. The prophet therefore has the difficult task of restoring courage to his contemporaries: he does so in this book called the Book of the Consolation of Israel, because chapter 40 begins: 'Console, console my people, says your God'. And when he says: 'your God' he recalls the Covenant that was never broken because God did not abandon them. In fact, one of the formulas of the Covenant was: 'You shall be my people and I will be your God' and whenever the expression my God or your God is echoed, the possessive is an encouraging reminder of the Covenant and, at the same time, a profession of faith. Isaiah intends to keep the exiles' hope alive by reminding them that God has not only not abandoned them, on the contrary, he is already preparing their return to their homeland. Nothing can be seen yet, but it will happen and why is it certain? Because God is faithful to his Covenant and since he chose this people he has never ceased to deliver them and keep them alive, through all the vicissitudes of their history. He has freed them from Pharaoh; he has protected them all along the way; he made them pass through the sea dry when they came out of Egypt.Israel's hope thus rests on its past: this is the meaning of the word 'memorial', constant remembrance of God's work that continues today, and from this we derive the certainty that it will continue into the future. Past, present, future: God is always present alongside his people. This is one of the meanings of God's name: 'I am', that is, I am with you in all circumstances. And precisely during the difficult period of exile, when there was the risk of giving in to despair, Isaiah develops a new metaphor, that of the sprout: "Behold, I am doing a new thing: right now I am sprouting, do you not notice?" Starting from the extraordinary experience of a tiny seed capable of becoming a great tree, it is easy to understand how the word "sprout" has become in Israel and today for us a symbol of hope, and it is important to learn to recognise the sprouts of the new world, the Kingdom that God is building.

*Responsorial Psalm [125 (126)]

 This psalm echoes the first reading, where the prophet Isaiah announces the return of the people exiled in Babylon and sings of this miracle just as the Jews had sung of the prodigy of the exit from Egypt. These are the events: in 587 BC. Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon, had conquered Jerusalem and deported the population, but, in turn, was defeated by Cyrus, king of Persia well known for his successes. Nebuchadnezzar's troops pillaged, plundered, raped, massacred and devastated, systematically deporting the population. Cyrus, on the other hand, adopted a completely different policy: he preferred to rule over prosperous peoples and allowed all deported populations to return to their homelands by providing the means to do so. And so, having conquered Babylon in 539 B.C., he allowed the Jews to return to Jerusalem as early as 538 B.C., also granting them economic aid and even returning the objects looted from the Temple by Nebuchadnezzar's soldiers.

The psalm does not say 'when the king of Persia Cyrus restored the lot of Zion' but 'when the Lord restored the lot of Zion', a way of affirming that God remains the Lord of history who pulls all the strings and therefore there is no other god - again a nod to the fight against idolatry. This psalm, probably written long after the return from exile, evokes the joy and excitement of liberation and return. How many times during exile did one dream of this moment! When it was realised, one almost dared not believe it: 'When the Lord restored the lot of Zion, it seemed to us as if we were dreaming ... our mouths were filled with a smile, our tongues with joy'.  One even imagines that the other peoples are also amazed by this miracle: "Then it was said among the nations: 'The Lord has done great things for them'. In this sentence, two elements emerge: an infinite gratitude for the gratuitousness of God's choice and the chosen people's awareness of having been chosen for the world: their vocation is to be witnesses of God's work, an awareness matured precisely during exile. In the psalm, astonishment at God's choice is expressed with the words: 'great things', that is, God's work of deliverance, particularly the liberation from Egypt. Words like feat, work, great things, wonders, which are often found in the psalms, are always a reference to the Exodus. Here, a new work of God's deliverance is added: the end of the exile experienced by the people as a true resurrection. To express this, the psalmist uses two images: The streams in the desert: "Restore, Lord, our lot, like the streams in the Negheb", desert south of Jerusalem, where myriads of flowers bloom in spring. The other image is the seed: 'he who sows in tears, will reap in joy'. the sown grain seems to rot and die... but when the ears sprout, it is like a rebirth, an eloquent image because the return of the exiles meant a true rebirth for the land as well. A final observation: when the return from the Babylonian exile is sung in this psalm, it had already taken place a long time ago, but Israel does not speak of the past just to recount it, but to communicate a message and a teaching for the future: this return to life, historically placed, becomes a reason to hope for other future resurrections and deliverances. Every year, during the Feast of Tents in the autumn, this song was sung during the pilgrimage to Jerusalem. As the pilgrims ascend, they sing of the deliverance that has already taken place and pray to God to hasten the day of final deliverance, when the promised Messiah will appear. Even today, there are many places of slavery, many 'Egypt' and 'Babylon'. This is what we think of when we sing: "Restore, Lord, our lot like the streams in the Negheb", asking for the grace to collaborate with all our strength in the work of liberation inaugurated by the Messiah, in order to hasten the day when the whole of humanity can sing: "Great things the Lord has done for us".

*Second Reading from the Letter of St Paul the Apostle to the Philippians (3:8-14)

 St Paul uses the image of running, and we know how important the goal and the desire to reach it is for every person. Here the Apostle speaks of himself: "I know only this: forgetting what lies behind me and reaching out to what lies ahead, I run towards the goal, to the prize that God calls us to receive up there in Christ Jesus. To run towards this same goal and obtain the promised prize, one must turn one's back on many things, as St Paul did when he felt conquered by Christ. The Greek verb he uses (katalambano) means to grasp, to seize, to take by force, and expresses the way in which he was completely transformed from a persecutor of Christians into an apostle of the gospel (Acts.9) when Christ literally took possession of him on the road to Damascus. St Paul presents his Christian faith as a natural continuation of his Jewish faith because Christ fully realises the expectations of the Old Testament by ensuring its continuity with the New Testament. Here, however, he insists on the newness that Jesus Christ brings: 'I consider everything to be a loss because of the sublimity of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord. The knowledge of Christ brings radical newness because one truly becomes a 'new creature', as he writes in his second letter to the Corinthians, which we read last Sunday (2 Cor 5:17-21). Now he says it in another way: "For him I have given up all these things and consider them rubbish in order to gain Christ and be found in him". In other words: what previously appeared important in my eyes, that is, an advantage and a privilege, I now reject altogether. The advantages of which he speaks were the pride of belonging to the people of Israel, the faith and unshakeable hope of that people, the assiduous and scrupulous practice of all the commandments that he calls obedience to the law of Moses. But now Jesus Christ has taken all the space in his life and he possesses the greatest good, the only true wealth in the world, the true treasure of human existence: to know Christ. Knowing in biblical language does not mean intellectual knowledge but living in intimacy with someone, loving him and sharing his life. Paul insists on this bond with Christ because in the community of Philippi some Christians of Jewish origin wanted to impose circumcision on all Christians before baptism and this created great division as we read in the second reading of the second Sunday of Lent. This issue was resolved by the Apostles at the First Council in Jerusalem by affirming that in the New Covenant, the Law of Moses has been superseded and baptism in the name of Jesus makes us children of God so circumcision is no longer indispensable to be part of the people of the New Covenant. Paul also speaks here of "communion" with Christ's sufferings, of being conformed to his death in the hope of attaining the resurrection from the dead, grafted into him in order to follow his same path: "communion with his sufferings, making me conform to his death". 

Note: St Paul invites us to live like Christ and to accept all the risks of proclaiming the Gospel, but can we say, like him, that the only good for us is the knowledge of Christ and everything else is but rubbish? The word rubbish that is used here translates the Greek word skubala, which has a very strong meaning that can be translated in several ways: as waste, refuse, dry excrement and filth, rotten and spoiled food residue. In short, a total rejection of everything, when one knows Christ and is possessed by him.

*From the Gospel according to John (8:1-11)

We are already in the context of the Passion and the first line mentions the Mount of Olives. Since the evangelists only mention it in the last days of Jesus' public life and the Pharisees want to set a trap for him here, this makes it clear that it has now been decided to try and condemn him. That is why every detail of this text must be carefully examined because it is not a simple episode in Jesus' life, but the very heart of his mission.  At the beginning Jesus is seated as a teacher: "all the people came to him and he sat down and began to teach them". However, the question of the scribes and Pharisees immediately puts him in the position of judge and Jesus is the only seated person. This detail helps us to understand that the theme of judgement, in St John, is central: the episode of the adulterous woman implements what he writes at the beginning of his gospel: "God sent the Son into the world, not to judge the world, but that the world might be saved through him" (John 3:17). We are faced with a mock trial because the issue is clear: the adulterous woman was caught in the act and there are witnesses; the Law of Moses condemns adultery as one of the commandments given by God on Sinai (Thou shalt not commit adultery, Ex 20:14; Deut 5:18); Leviticus prescribes the death penalty: "If anyone commits adultery with his neighbour's wife, the adulterer and the adulteress shall be put to death" (Lev 20:10). The scribes and Pharisees, who question Jesus, are as always very attached to the Law of Moses, but they forget to add that the Law provides for the condemnation of both offenders, the man and the adulterous woman. The fact that despite knowing this, no one remembers it, shows that the real issue is not the observance of the Law, but something else, and the text says it clearly: "They said this to test him and to have reason to accuse him". It is therefore a trap-question and what do they want to accuse Jesus of? Jesus cannot approve of the stoning because it would contradict the whole preaching on mercy; if, however, he publicly defends the woman, he can be accused of inciting the people to disobey the Law. In John's Gospel (chapter 5), we have already seen him tell the healed paralytic to take his bed, an act forbidden on the Sabbath. They failed to condemn him that day, but this time the disobedience would be public. After all, despite the apparent respect with which they call him 'Master', Jesus is in as much danger as the adulterous woman: both risk death. Jesus does not immediately respond: "He stooped down and began to write with his finger on the ground". With his silence, a constructive silence, he invites each one to reflect without humiliating anyone, and he, the incarnation of mercy, does not put the scribes and Pharisees or the adulterous woman in difficulty: he wants each one to take a step forward by trying to reveal to the Pharisees and scribes the true face of the God of mercy. When he responds, he does so almost by posing a question: 'Let him who is without sin among you cast the stone at her first'. At this point they all leave, "one by one, beginning with the elders". Nothing surprising: the elders appear to be the ones most ready to listen to the call to mercy. Who knows how many times they have experienced God's mercy on them... How many times they have read, sung, meditated on the verse: "God of tenderness and mercy, slow to anger and abounding in love" (Ex 34:6). How many times have they recited Psalm 50(51): "Have mercy on me, O God, according to your mercy, in your great goodness blot out my sin". Now they can understand that their lack of mercy is a fault, a lack of faithfulness to the God of the Covenant. Jesus' statement may have led them to this reflection: 'Let him who is without sin among you cast the stone first'. Being the first to throw the stone was an expression known to all in the context of the fight against idolatry. The Law did not say that it had to be the witness of adultery who threw the first stone; but it did say so expressly for the case of idolatry (Deut 13:9-10; Deut 17:7). Thus Jesus' reply can be interpreted as: "This woman is guilty of adultery, in the literal sense of the word, it is true; but are you not committing an even more serious adultery, an unfaithfulness to the God of the Covenant? The prophets often speak of idolatry in terms of adultery.  In the end, only Jesus and the woman remain: it is the face-to-face, as St Augustine says, between misery and mercy. For her, the Word once again fulfils his mission, speaking the word of reconciliation. Isaiah, speaking of the servant of God, had announced it: 'He will not break a cracked reed, he will not quench a smouldering wick...' (Is 42:3). But this is not goodism because Jesus clearly tells the woman to sin no more, sin remains condemned, but only forgiveness can enable the sinner to be reborn to hope.

Note: What does Jesus write on the ground? The evangelist does not specify, and this has given rise to various interpretations: Some Church Fathers, such as St Augustine, speculate that Jesus was writing down the hidden sins of those who accused the woman. This is why, one by one, they go away; It refers to the Mosaic Law: according to a rabbinic interpretation, it could refer to Jeremiah 17:13: "Those who turn away from you will be written in the dust, because they have forsaken the Lord, the source of living water." If so, Jesus would be indicating that the accusers themselves are guilty of unfaithfulness to God. It could be a symbolic act of detachment; writing in the dust could symbolise that the accusations against the woman are ephemeral, destined to fade away; it could indicate a call to patience and reflection; finally, it could be a way of not responding immediately, prompting the accusers to reflect on their hypocrisy.

Jesus' gesture invites us to shift our attention not to the guilt of others, but to our own conscience. No one can condemn another without first examining himself. This episode teaches us that God's mercy exceeds human condemnation, and that forgiveness is always possible when there is a heart willing to change. 

The first reading and this Sunday's Gospel have the same message: forget the past, don't get attached to it... nothing, not even memories, should stop you from moving on. In the first reading, Isaiah speaks to the people in exile... in the Gospel, Jesus speaks to a woman caught in the act of adultery: apparently, two very different cases, but the message is the same: turn your gaze firmly towards the future, no longer think about the past.

+Giovanni D'Ercole