First Reading • Acts 2:42-47
Psalm • Psalm 118:2-4, 13-15, 22-24
Second Reading • 1 Peter 1:3-9
Gospel • John 20:19-31
Most Catholics know that over the past two centuries the Blessed Mother has appeared in different parts of the world.
What many people may not realize is that during that same period, Jesus Himself has also appeared.
One of those appearances took place less than one hundred years ago in Poland, when Jesus appeared to a young nun, Faustina Kowalska.
Between 1931 and 1938, He entrusted her with a special mission: to proclaim to the world the greatness of His mercy.
Jesus revealed to Sister Faustina that His heart burns with love for sinners. He wanted the world to know that no one is beyond forgiveness, and no sin is too great.
If people would only turn to Him with trust, they would discover forgiveness, healing, and grace beyond anything they could imagine.
In one of these encounters, Jesus made a specific request: that the Sunday after Easter be celebrated as the Feast of Divine Mercy. He wanted the Church to remember that His Resurrection opened the floodgates of mercy for the entire world. Many years later, on April 30, 2000, Pope Saint John Paul II officially established this feast for the universal Church.
That is why we are here today; to reflect on the mercy of Jesus, not as an abstract idea, but as something real, personal, and meant for each of us.
The Gospel we hear today; the story of Doubting Thomas; fits this feast perfectly.
If anyone needed mercy, it was Thomas.
On the evening of Easter Sunday, Jesus appeared to the apostles, but Thomas was not there. We are not told where he was.
Perhaps he was wandering through Jerusalem, trying to make sense of everything. Only days earlier, he had seen his Master crucified. The one he believed to be the Messiah had been nailed to a cross and left to die.
Jerusalem would have been filled with talk. Some may have spoken with sympathy, others with mockery.
Perhaps Thomas even encountered people who recognized him as a follower of Jesus.
Imagine the weight of that moment; his hopes shattered, his faith shaken, his heart wounded.
So, when the other apostles told him that Jesus was alive, Thomas could not accept it. His heart had already been broken once. He could not risk believing again.
“Unless I see the mark of the nails in His hands and put my finger into the nail marks and my hand into His side, I will not believe.” These are not just words of doubt; they are words of pain.
In many ways, Thomas represents many people in our world today. We live in a time of confusion, surrounded by countless voices telling us what to believe. Over time, people become overwhelmed. They begin to question everything.
Doubt slowly takes root, and many drift away; from truth, from the Church, and from Christ. The longer they stay away, the deeper those doubts grow, until hope itself begins to fade.
That is where Thomas was.
But Jesus does not abandon him.
Eight days later, Jesus appears again. This time, He speaks directly to Thomas: “Put your finger here and see my hands. Bring your hand and put it into my side.
Do not be unbelieving, but believe.” Jesus meets Thomas exactly where he is; in his doubt, in his pain, in his struggle.
And in that encounter, something remarkable happens. Thomas makes one of the most beautiful professions of faith in all of Scripture: “My Lord and my God.”
That is what mercy does. Mercy restores faith. Mercy heals wounded hearts. Mercy brings people back.
And that same mercy is available to us today.
Every Sunday, we gather at Mass and encounter the same Risen Jesus. He comes to us in His Word. He comes to us in the Eucharist. He comes to strengthen us, just as He strengthened the apostles.
All of us know someone who is a little like Thomas; someone who used to come to Mass but no longer does. It may be a friend, a relative, or even one of our own children.
Sometimes, it is not that they have completely left; they still come, but not with the same zeal and enthusiasm they once had. Something has changed.
Their faith has grown quiet, routine, or uncertain. Some are not ready for change, not ready to take the next step in their spiritual life, holding back because of fear, hurt, or comfort in old ways.
We should not judge them. Many carry wounds we cannot see, doubts we do not understand, and pain they have never spoken about.
Outwardly they may seem fine, but inwardly their hearts are restless and searching. Only Jesus can give them what they truly need.
Jesus did not come for perfect people. He came for sinners.
He stretched out His arms on the Cross so that every sinner might find forgiveness. There is no sin too great for God’s mercy. And no one is so far gone that they cannot return.
Jesus told Saint Faustina, “The greater the sinner, the greater the right he has to my mercy.” That is the heart of today’s feast.
Our Heavenly Father desires to forgive, to heal, and to save. Whatever holds us back; whether doubt, fear, or sin; His mercy is greater.
Today, Jesus invites us to trust Him. He invites us to place our lives into His hands.
And He sends us out to reach those who are wandering, to bring them back; not with judgment, but with love; so that they too may encounter the mercy that can change everything.
