2nd Sunday of Easter Year A – Divine Mercy Sunday 2026
- Assumptionists in the UK

- Apr 14
- 2 min read

“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 Easter song of the Church sings of wonder: life triumphing over death, love breaking open the sealed stone of despair, proclaiming “Death and life have struggled wondrously!” This struggle reaches its deepest truth on the Cross, where Jesus carries the brokenness of the world without resentment. The Cross is not a symbol of defeat; it is the fullest revelation of mercy. It is from the cross that forgiveness flows through wounded hands. It is there that mercy speaks louder than cruelty, and compassion refuses to be silenced by violence.
Celtic spirituality encourages us to pay attention to what is quietly holy. Mercy is just such a holiness. It does not arrive with force; it arrives with faithfulness and stays. Peter said that our faith is tested like gold in a furnace, not to destroy us, but to reveal the beauty already placed within us by God. Mercy stands with us in the testing. Mercy keeps our hope alive when certainty fades, and holds us steady when suffering threatens to harden the soul.
To receive mercy is to be entrusted with dignity. We are not reduced by God’s forgiveness; we are raised by it. Even without having seen him, Peter says, we love Christ, and rejoice with a joy that is deep and unshakeable. This joy is born from knowing that our lives are held within God’s compassion. It blesses us with humble pride: not pride in ourselves, but pride in being loved so faithfully.
Jesus does not wish his mercy to remain just an inward comfort. Jesus invites us to become what we have received. Mercy is meant to take flesh again in the world through us. In an age marked by war, the abuse of power, and the suffering of the innocent, mercy becomes a courageous choice. It resists the lie that harshness is strength. It insists that gentleness is never weakness, and that love is still the most radical of responses.
Each time we choose understanding rather than judgement, patience rather than anger, welcome instead of fear, the risen Christ is at work again. Each act of mercy becomes a small Easter in a wounded landscape. We do not deny the darkness, but we refuse to let it define the future.
May we stand in wonder at the mercy that has saved us. May gratitude soften our hearts and steady our steps. And may the joy of Easter mould us into people whose lives quietly proclaim: mercy is stronger than death, hope has not been in vain, and that love will always, always have the final word
By Fr. Thomas O'Brien a.a.





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