“Have you come to believe because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed.” (Ga 20, 29) St Peter proudly proclaims , “Blessed be God... who in his great mercy has given us a new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.”  Mercy is the first movement of God towards us. It rises before our effort, before our prayer, before our knowing because the gentle goodness of God never gives up on the human heart. The

For they did not yet understand the Scripture that he had to rise from the dead. (Ga 20,9) In the stillness before sunrise, when night and morning quietly come together, Mary of Magdala walks to the tomb. The world is hushed, as if waiting for a secret too beautiful to speak aloud. Mary carries her sorrow tenderly, like a fragile vessel. She believes she goes to honour the dead, yet in her heart something more ancient than grief is stirring: an instinct older than words, call

Holy Saturday is a day inviting us to wait. We are asked to pause on the threshold between sorrow and joy, appealing to the silence to teach us. Waiting, if we allow it, can be a sacred time: a place where God can whisper reassuringly to the heart. For now, step into that quiet space and allow yourself to feel both the ache and the promise held in this most precious of pauses. Remember especially those who are eagerly awaiting Baptism, Reception into the Church, and the outpo

There is a moment in the garden of Gethsemane that should stop us in our tracks. Jesus kneels alone in the dark. His friends are asleep nearby. He knows what is coming. And yet he does not stride through those hours untouched by fear. He sweats – trembles and asks for the cup to pass him by. "Not what I want, but what you want." Jesus says He held his deepest fear in one hand, his deepest love in the other — and chose love. Not because the fear was small but because love was

When we place ourselves at the table with Jesus and the Apostles on the night before his arrest, we can almost feel Peter’s confusion and unease. The Lord of heaven kneels with a bowl of water and asks to wash our dusty, ordinary feet. It is a love so humble, so unexpected, that it is unsettling. Like Peter, we would gladly kneel before Jesus, yet hesitate to let Jesus kneel before us. We would feel unworthy, embarrassed, even overwhelmed. No wonder Peter struggled. So would