Easter Sunday was three weeks ago. Seems even longer. Time moves on and it moves fast.
But we are still celebrating! 50 days to celebrate the glorious reality of resurrection. And our gospel this morning takes place on Easter Sunday! On that same first day of the week that Mary Magdalene and the other women had gone to the tomb early in the morning to wrap Jesus’ dead body in herbs and spices – and found the tomb empty. It’s the same day that they rushed back to carry the news that Jesus was risen.
But now it’s later on that day, and two of Jesus’ followers are trudging home. They had gotten the women’s news, but it was nonsense to them. They walk the seven miles to Emmaus in grief, in shame, in profound disappointment. And the risen Christ comes from nowhere to walk alongside them. But they do not recognize him. They do not recognize him as he listens to them and helps them to re-frame that same story in God’s light. But even in their grief they do what disciples do – offer hospitality to this stranger. And it is in the midst of that hospitality, as the risen Christ takes the bread, blesses it, breaks it and offers it to them, that their eyes are opened. And they rush back, into the night, to run the seven miles back to Jerusalem, to share the amazing news.
I want to invite us this morning to back up from the joy and join them, as Jesus did, on that walk of shame and grief and anger and disappointment. Because honestly, it’s not a stretch to say, just as they said – “We had hoped…” and it’s not a stretch to tell our own stories of dashed dreams and disappointments.
When we see what the criminality of our own leadership, when we see what is happening in Iran, in Lebanon, in our own country, around the world, and possibly in personal challenges we are facing within our own lives and those of our loved ones, we are, currently experiencing deep disappointment, anger, grief – so many different and difficult emotions. And so it’s not a stretch to place ourselves alongside these dejected ones. We too are in their company.
“We had hoped….”
And Jesus in his brand new not even day-old resurrected body is not going to pull up beside us and re-frame things. In the Eucharist yes. In the experience of community, yes. In the revelation of God’s eternal power that comes upon us as we day by day continue to love and serve in equal measure all of God’s children, yes. But it helps to have a re-framing of reality from a powerful and current voice that commands world-wide attention.
And so, this morning I want to call on Pope Leo – who by God’s grace, is one of the current leading voices for the universal church and for the gospel of Jesus Christ, who is a mighty and beautiful and powerful voice for peace, and by the power of the Holy Spirit is an uncowed, unbowed American, speaking eternal truth to earthly power.
Here is what he shared for Easter – I’m bringing it to you because it shines so much light and hope into our world, and I hope into our personal lives as well.
Easter HOMILY OF POPE LEO XIV
St Peter’s Square Easter Sunday, 5 April 2026
Dear brothers and sisters,
Today all of creation is resplendent with new light, a song of praise rises from the earth, and our hearts rejoice: Christ is risen from the dead, and with him, we too rise to new life!
This Easter proclamation embraces the mystery of our lives and the destiny of history, reaching us even in the depths of death, where we feel threatened and sometimes overwhelmed. It opens us up to a hope that never fails, to a light that never fades, to a fullness of joy that nothing can take away: death has been conquered forever; death no longer has power over us!
This is a message that is not always easy to accept, a promise that we struggle to embrace, because the power of death constantly threatens us, both from within and without.
From within, this power threatens us when the weight of our sins prevents us from “spreading our wings” and taking flight, or when the disappointments or loneliness we experience drain our hope. It likewise looms over us when our worries or our resentments suffocate the joy of living, when we are sad or tired, or when we feel betrayed or rejected. When we have to come to terms with our weakness, with the sufferings and the daily grind of life, we can feel as if we have ended up in a tunnel with no end in sight.
From without, death is always lurking. We see it present in injustices, in partisan selfishness, in the oppression of the poor, in the lack of attention given to the most vulnerable. We see it in violence, in the wounds of the world, in the cry of pain that rises from every corner because of the abuses that crush the weakest among us, because of the idolatry of profit that plunders the earth’s resources, because of the violence of war that kills and destroys.
In this reality, the Passover of the Lord invites us to lift our gaze and open our hearts. It continues to nourish the seed of the promised victory within our spirit and throughout the course of history. It sets us in motion, like Mary Magdalene and the Apostles, so that we may discover that Jesus’ tomb is empty, and therefore in every death we experience there is also room for new life to arise. The Lord is alive and remains with us. Through the cracks of resurrection that open up in the darkness, he entrusts our hearts to the hope that sustains us: the power of death is not the final destiny of our lives. We are all directed, once and for all, on the path to fulfilment, because in Christ we also have risen.
With heartfelt words, Pope Francis reminded us of this in his first Apostolic Exhortation, Evangelii Gaudier, affirming that the resurrection of Christ “is not an event of the past; it contains a vital power which has permeated this world. Where all seems to be dead, signs of the resurrection suddenly spring up. It is an irresistible force. Often it seems that God does not exist: all around us we see persistent injustice, evil, indifference and cruelty. But it is also true that in the midst of darkness something new always springs to life and sooner or later produces fruit”
Brothers and sisters, Easter gives us this hope, as we remember that in the risen Christ a new creation is possible every day. This is what today’s Gospel tells us, as it clearly describes the event of the resurrection as taking place on “the first day of the week” (Jn 20:1). The day of Christ’s resurrection thus takes us back to that first day when God created the world, and at the same time proclaims that a new life, stronger than death, is now dawning for humanity.
Easter is the new creation brought about by the Risen Lord; it is a new beginning; it is life finally made eternal by God’s victory over the ancient enemy.
We need this song of hope today. It is ourselves, risen with Christ, who must bring him into the streets of the world. Let us then run like Mary Madgalene, announcing him to everyone, living out the joy of the resurrection, so that wherever the specter of death still lingers, the light of life may shine.
May Christ, our Passover, bless us and give his peace to the whole world!