Faith and doubt - a human dialogue

 2nd Sunday of Easter - Sunday 12 April 2026

 Lectio Divina:*

Acts 2:42-47 Psalm 118(117)

1 Peter 1:3-9 John 20:19-31

“Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.”

Meditatio:

‘ Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.’ (John 20:29)

 Commentary:

To have faith is to trust and to entrust. It means taking a step, sometimes a leap, without full certainty. Faith does not require doubt, yet because we are limited creatures, doubt often accompanies the journey. In trusting, we hand our doubts to God, and God receives them. Simple? Yes and no. Life is rarely clear‑cut, and questions press in on every side.

A second century celebration of the Mass

 

Throughout the Easter season we repeatedly hear Gospel accounts of the Risen Jesus sharing meals with his disciples. On the road to Emmaus, for example, we read that Jesus “took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them” (Luke 24:13–35). The evangelists clearly intend us to recognise in these moments the early Eucharistic life of the Christian community.

A century later, Saint Justin Martyr—born in Flavia Neapolis (modern‑day Nablus, north of Jerusalem) around the turn of the first century and martyred in Rome about AD 165—gives us one of the earliest detailed descriptions of how the Eucharist was celebrated following baptism (First Apology, 65–67). He explains that:

Silence and listening

How might our parish churches look like in 2050 #6

It seems to me that people hunger, thirst, and cry out inwardly simply to be heard — by someone, anyone, at some moment, in some way. A lack of opportunity, space, or means to be listened to lies at the heart of many personal and societal wounds. We carry so much within us, and often we do not even know the half of it.

The new passover

 

Jesus and the Jewish roots of the Eucharist #4

Picking up again on the Jewish roots of the Christian Eucharist the author, Brant Pitre, draws together several themes that have echoed through the Easter Triduum:

• The once‑for‑all sacrifice of Jesus on Good Friday – the true Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.
• The meal of the Last Supper, where Jesus gives his Body and Blood “for you and for many.”
• The proclamation of a new covenant, sealed in Christ’s blood.
• The liberation of God’s people on the night of the Pasch or Passover.
• The real presence of God among His people, made sacramentally present in the Eucharist.

Mass crawling

 

A particular item screened on RTE television caught my attention the other day.  It featured three ‘lads’ who, instead of the traditional pub crawl at Christmas, went on a ‘Mass crawl’ beginning in November 2024.  They have managed to visit and attend the Holy Mass in over 50 places across counties Wicklow, Kildare, Carlow and further afield.  Make you want you wish from the item here. In the telling of the story I thought that were something decisively Emmaus-like (Luke 24:13-35) about this Eucharistic journey. They went as ‘two or three’ (Matthew 18:20) and not three separate individuals.  Was it a case of their thinking ‘Were not our hearts burning within us?’. 

Easter changes everything

 

Pic: Moira Lynott

Easter Sunday 5 April 2026

[see, also, Blog for Easter Saturday- Where O Death is your sting?]

Meditatio:

‘ but God raised him on the third day and allowed him to appear, not to all the people but to us who were chosen by God as witnesses, and who ate and drank with him after he rose from the dead’ (Acts 10:40-41)

 Commentary: It was early in the morning - cold and dark. Something extraordinary awaited the two disciples. The Gospels differ in detail, but they agree on the essential truth: the tomb was empty, and Jesus, who had truly died, had truly risen. There was no CCTV, no forensic reconstruction, no modern reporting. What we have is the testimony of those who saw, heard, touched, and were changed. And that testimony has carried the Church for two thousand years.

Where O death is your sting?

Holy Saturday

Yesterday, there was a funeral in a local church. Someone remarked of the deceased, “It was nice to be buried on the same day as Jesus was.” True. And, death comes for each of us. But it is not the end. What marks us out as a people set apart is our conviction that Jesus truly rose from the dead and is risen still. We believe what the world often dismisses as fanciful. We hope for what many have long abandoned. Even now, in this “valley of tears,” we live in the gift of eternal light. The darkness is overcome by the Light of Christ.

As we reflect today on the Lord’s Passion, we wait with joyful expectation for the spark that will be lit at the Easter Vigil this evening. We can hardly wait for sunset, when we will taste and sense the joy of the Risen One on this holiest of nights. From a single flame, light will spread from candle to candle. We hear the Deacon or priest sing out the  great Exsultet which includes the following verses:

This is the night when Jesus Christ
broke the chains of death
and rose triumphant from the grave.

And again:

Accept this Easter candle,
a flame divided but undimmed,
a pillar of fire that glows to the honour of God.
Let it mingle with the lights of heaven
and continue bravely burning
to dispel the darkness of this night.

Whether just after sunset or just before, this is the moment we have been waiting for. Our song is one of triumph over death. Death does not have the last word. In our Easter Eucharist we proclaim Christ crucified and risen. He is in our midst, and we rejoice.

Some day the Easter candle lit on the previous Easter will be lit for our passing from this world.

Where, O death, is your victory?  Where, O death, is your sting? (1 Corinthians 15:55)