Easter, Brothers and Sisters in Christ!

We sometimes have a tendency to say or even use the phrase “to see is to believe” in order to believe and convince ourselves that something is real. In today’s world, fake news often leads people to disregard what’s real.

On this 2nd Sunday of Easter, also known as Divine Mercy Sunday, and the 8th day of the Octave of Easter, we are like Thomas, needing to see things with our own eyes to believe they’re real. As we heard in last Monday within the Octave of Easter Gospel, the Jews spread a rumor that Jesus’ disciples stole his body while the guards were asleep (Mt. 28:8-15).

Kagalakan ang dapat Maghari, hindi ang sabi-sabi (Mt. 28:15 MBB)! Thomas doubted, but when he saw the risen Lord, he professed, “My Lord and my God.”

As Christians, our baptism calls us to believe that Christ is risen. We profess in the Creed that Jesus is the Son of the Father, conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the Blessed Virgin Mary, crucified, died, and rose again for us. Faith leads us to believe that Jesus is risen, and that’s the Good News of our salvation.

The Risen Lord said, “Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed” (Jn. 20:29b).

Christ is Risen! Alleluia, Alleluia!
-He is Truly Risen, Alleluia, Alleluia!

– FR. ABRAHAM MA. VELASQUEZ, OSM

Peace That Stands Beside the Wounded Road

After Easter Sunday Mass, my heart was still full. The proclamation of the Resurrection echoed within me, and I walked out carrying that familiar Easter joy – the joy that says death does not have the last word. And then, just outside the church, I saw a motorcycle accident.

The contrast was unsettling. One moment, I was meditating on peace, mercy, and new life; the next, I stood before brokenness, urgency, and fear. Concerned voices, stillness mixed with panic – it all felt too close, too real. Easter joy met human fragility on the same road.

And as I reflect with John 20:19–31, that scene returned vividly. The disciples, too, had encountered the Resurrection, yet they were still afraid. They hid behind locked doors, carrying hope and fear together. And I realized something personal: celebrating Easter does not mean pain disappears. Believing does not shield me from suffering I witness on ordinary roads, even right after Mass.

What consoles me is how Jesus appears with His wounds still visible. He does not pretend suffering never happened. He stands among them and speaks peace while bearing the marks of pain. Suddenly, the road after Mass made sense. The Risen Christ was not absent there. He was present – in the concern of strangers, the silence that compelled prayer, and the instinct to pause and
care.

When Jesus says, “Peace be with you,” it feels deeper now. Peace does not mean nothing bad happens. Peace means Christ is present even when bad things do happen. That afternoon, I realized peace can look like stopping, praying silently, offering help, or simply being human in a moment of crisis. Peace can look like compassion interrupting our plans. That day, Easter followed me out of the church and onto the street – not as a perfect celebration, but as a deeper faith. A faith that says Christ is alive not only in joy, but in interruption; not only in the sanctuary, but beside wounded roads; not only in certainty, but in trembling hearts. And when I whisper, “My Lord and my God,” it is surrender: trusting Christ stands beside wounded roads and with Risen Christ, life is beautiful.

– m’jenn

PRAYER TO START THE WEEK
Lord Jesus, like the disciples, enter into our fears and fill our hearts with Your peace. Strengthen our faith, especially in moments of doubt, so we may trust in You even when we do not see. Help us to believe more deeply and become witnesses of Your love and life to others. Amen.

Originally published in the Neo Jeremiah Voice of the Young Prophet (April 12, 2026 issue).