Beloved brothers and sisters in Christ,
Today, on this Second Sunday of Easter, we gather within the sacred hush of Our Lady of Silence to contemplate the mystery of Divine Mercy — the wellspring of God’s love that flows into the wounds of the world.
In the Gospel, the risen Lord appears to His disciples, showing them His hands and His side — marks not of defeat, but of His victorious love. “Peace be with you,” He says — not as a wish, but as a gift. This peace springs from His mercy, a mercy deeper than sin, stronger than death.
Saint Thomas, struggling to believe, is invited to touch the wounds. How tender is the mercy of Christ, who does not scold doubt but invites the doubter closer. In Thomas, we see ourselves: longing, hesitant, wounded. And Christ does not turn away. Instead, He says: Come. Touch. See. Believe.
Here in the silence of the Abbey, we too are invited to draw close to His wounds, not with the hands of the body, but with the hands of the heart. In prayer, in hidden sacrifice, in trustful surrender, we are called to encounter the living Mercy, to be healed and to become healers in His name.
Today, Divine Mercy Sunday, let us remember: it is not our perfection that draws God to us, but our need. Mercy seeks the sinner. Mercy embraces the broken. Mercy fills the empty and sends them forth as bearers of peace.
May we, in the silence entrusted to us by Our Lady, carry this Divine Mercy into every moment — unseen, perhaps, by the world, but shining brightly before the face of God.
“Jesus, I trust in You.”
Amen.