Today’s readings: Acts 4, 32-35; 1 John 5, 1-6; John 20, 19-31

It is quite confusing on this Sunday after Easter to read in the gospel about Jesus risen and manifesting himself to the apostles showing them “his hands and his side”. Why is he still carrying the signs of his suffering? Why risen and wounded?

It still confuses us that while we believe Jesus conquered death and suffering, life continues to be marked with suffering and meaninglessness. What victory is this? Why redeemed and sinners at the same time?

This is the fragility of the resurrection itself. In our personal lives and in the world around us, the resurrection we celebrate every Easter is not fully accomplished. It is gradually that we comprehend it, that it sinks in deeply to radically impact our existence. This is a lifetime process – full of hurdles, doubts and disappointments, but also blessed with glimpses that replenish us with the inner force to proceed every time we falter.

St John, typical of him, today in his first letter speaks of the dialectic between faith and the world, light and darkness. He asks: who can overcome the world? And his answer is: “Anyone who has been begotten by God has already overcome the world; this is the victory over the world – our faith”.

As we read in Acts, the community life of the first Christians, still coming to terms with the trauma they had been through, was marked by “unity of heart and soul”. Their basic witness to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus was credible and powerful because it translated tangibly, making sure that “none of their members was ever in want”.

Even today, the resurrection of Jesus can still impact the world and the lives of people depending on how credible we believers are. As long as people continue to be marginalised to shaming poverty levels and greed continues to reign in our dealings and to erode our values, we cannot preach credibly the risen Christ. Faith, in situations of injustice, inequality and corruption cannot be the faith that overcomes the world. It is simply emptied of its power, becoming futile and illusory.

This is the test the faith of our country is undergoing today and on which our credibility and relevance as believers will depend in the coming future.  In his City of God, St Augustine wrote that a people was a multitude defined by the common objects of their love.

Positively impressed by the virtue and strength of character of the Roman heroes, Augustine offers a profound analysis of the successes and failures of the Roman Empire and hints to what, in his mind, was the tragedy of Rome. Rome, for him, sought glory in this mortal world and received a mortal glory that would shine, but fade.

What are ‘the common objects of our love’; what is it that makes us who we are? How can we overcome what is debilitating our society and seek instead what can heal our wounds as a nation? We’ve come to a point when anger, resentment, hatred and division seem to prevail over virtues like honesty, truth and unity. Perhaps we need to review our compendium of sins to include betrayal of loyalty and of love of country.

Can we recover the power of the spirit Christ breathed over his apostles and which for so long inspired us? Things cannot be expected to change overnight. But we need to open our eyes to what we read today from St John’s gospel that there are sins that are forgiven and sins that are retained.

It depends on us and on the good will of many whether and when the healing process can start. As a people, we are resourceful enough to overcome all this so that the spirit of truth can prevail and unblock the rut we’ve entered and which can dismantle our Easter hope.