John 20:19-31, Divine Mercy Sunday

Brothers and sisters,
Every year, the Catholic Church gives us this Sunday—the Second Sunday of Easter—as Divine Mercy Sunday. And it is befitting that it comes immediately after the First Sunday of Easter because the Gospel today—and all the readings—reveal a Risen Christ who chooses mercy, again and again.

While praying with the readings this week, four powerful images stood out to me. Not symbols I invented, but ones hidden in plain sight in Scripture that you have just listened to:

• The Shadow from the Acts of the Apostles,
• The Stone from the Psalm,
• The Scroll from the Book of Revelation,
• And The Scar from the Gospel of John.

These four images are not just poetic. They are deeply theological and pastoral. They reveal how mercy flows from God to us, and how we are called to extend that mercy—especially within our families, where mercy is often most difficult, most needed, and most transformative.

Perhaps, it is also not a coincidence that we buried Francis I, our most beloved pontiff, yesterday. We lost an icon of mercy but his legacy lives on.   

Let’s walk through each one of these images, and listen for the voice of Pope Francis, who has tirelessly reminded us:

“The Church’s very credibility is seen in how she shows merciful and compassionate love.”

                                                       — Misericordiae Vultus/The Face of Mercy, 10

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1. The Shadow – Mercy in the Ordinary (Acts 5:12–16)

In the First Reading, the apostles are doing signs and wonders. But what’s most striking is this line:

“People laid the sick on cots and mats so that Peter’s shadow might fall on them as he passed.”

Imagine that—not even Peter’s words or touch, just his shadow brought healing. This reminds us how desperate people brave the crowds during the Feast of the Black Nazarene because they truly believe in the miraculous power of Jesus’ touch—that even a handkerchief pressed on the body of the Christ’s statue is supposed to cure all sicknesses. 

This is the mercy we often miss: the quiet, ordinary, the barely visible. This mercy is present in many homes. Like a mother preparing food every day. A father commuting long hours. A sibling helping silently. Most family love is shadow-like—quiet but saving.

Pope Francis calls this “the revolution of tenderness.” In Dilexit Nos/He Loved Us, he writes:

“It is only by starting from the heart that our communities will succeed in uniting and reconciling differing minds and wills, so that the Spirit can guide us in unity as brothers and sisters.” (Dilexit Nos, 28). And the family is the smallest, most basic unit of any community.  It is from the family where we are called to practice mercy.

Mercy in the family often isn’t dramatic—it’s in the way we show up for each other: birthdays, anniversaries, visit to sick members. Checking on each other’s health. Forgiving quickly and asking for pardon. That’s shadow-mercy: real, powerful, but also humble.

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2. The Stone – Mercy for the Rejected (Psalm 118:22–24)

“The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone.”

This is the story of Jesus—and the story of every person who’s ever felt unwanted, misunderstood, or discarded. That includes people within our own families:

• The person we often refer to as the black sheep,
• The sibling who makes poor choices,
• The parent whose wounds and addictions were never named but continually hurt us

But Christ’s mercy sees differently. It looks at the rejected and says: You are needed. You are important. You are part of the foundation. Without you we will never be complete.

Pope Francis constantly reminds us:

“No one is excluded from the joy brought by the Lord.” (Evangelii Gaudium, The Joy of the Gospel 3)

Mercy in families means seeing not who a person was—what they did and what they did not do, but who they can become when loved. Who they truly are when allowed back into the fold, the flock and in the human family.

How often do we need to reclaim that “stone” in our own home—starting with a long overdue phone call, a listening and non-judging ear, a new chance to redeem themselves?

3. The Scroll – Mercy that Tells the Truth (Revelation 1:9–19)

John, exiled and alone on Patmos, receives a vision from the Risen Christ who tells him:

“Write down what you see.”

This scroll becomes the Book of Revelation—not just a vision of judgment, but of hope, healing, and restoration. John writes from exile—and maybe that’s where many families find themselves too: estranged, misunderstood, carrying generational wounds.

But the scroll teaches us something: Mercy must be remembered and retold.

Pope Francis insists on this:

“The Church does not grow by proselytizing but by attraction, by witnessing.” (Dilexit Nos, 5)

Families need to tell their stories—not the edited, sanitized versions, but the ones that include stories of pain and of healing, of betrayal and forgiveness.
When we share these stories with our children and siblings, we say: “We are a family not because we are perfect, but because God’s mercy held us together.”

4. The Scar – Mercy That Touches Wounds (John 20:19–31)

The Gospel centers on Thomas, the doubter. But the turning point is when Jesus shows his scars.

“Put your finger here… see my hands.”

Jesus does not erase the pain of Good Friday. He shows it. Glorified, but still visible. Still aches.

This is His mercy: not the hiding of wounds, not the denial of pain but their transformation.

As we all know, families carry scars.  Tell me a family who has not any and I’ll tell you that they truly are not.  These scars include:

• Old betrayals,
• Harsh words never taken back,
• Avoidable absences,
• Unintended mistakes,
• Pride unchecked and let loosed.

We often pretend everything is okay. But Christ shows us: It’s okay to touch the scars. It’s okay to say, “this hurt a lot”—but also “I forgive you in spite the pain you caused me.”

Pope Francis puts it this way:

“The wounds of Christ are the permanent sign of the merciful love of God.” (Dilexit Nos, 15)

Therefore, we ask ourselves: What scars need naming in your family? What scars need touching—not to reopen it, but to acknowledge it and  to bless it?

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Conclusion: Family, the First Home of Mercy

Dear friends,
Mercy is not vague. It is not an idea. It’s not an emotion. It is concrete. It is Jesus. And He gives us these four gifts to bring mercy home:

• The Shadow – the small, quiet acts of love that heal,
• The Stone – the rejected ones we’re called to build with,
• The Scroll – the stories of how mercy saved us,
• The Scar – the wounds we’re no longer afraid to touch with tenderness.

This is how resurrection enters our homes. This is how families become places of healing.

If your family is struggling—start with one of these images. Let your love be a shadow. Quietly do you part even if unacknowledged or rewarded. Reach out to the rejected stone. Ask them how they are. Listen to them tell their stories without judging.  Tell a story that brings hope. Show your scar and touch theirs, and forgive from your heart even if you’re still hurting.

Because if mercy is not alive in our homes, it won’t be alive in our communities, in our churches and in the world.

And maybe today, as we receive the Eucharist—the body of the scarred, risen Christ—we can pray:

“Jesus, make my family a place where mercy lives and love never gives up.”

Amen.