About Today
Wednesday 6 May 2026
Wednesday of the 5th week of Eastertide
The Lord has truly risen, alleluia.
Year: A(II). Psalm week: 1. Liturgical Colour: White.
Other saints: Saint François de Laval (1623 - 1708)
Canada
He was the first bishop of New France, later to become Canada. He founded a seminary and had schools and churches built. He resigned his bishopric in 1684 but remained in New France and acted as deputy to his successor. He was canonized by Pope Francis on 3 April 2014.
Today's gospel reading John 15:1-8 I am the vine; you are the branches
At that time: Jesus said to his disciples, ‘I am the true vine, and my Father is the vine dresser. Every branch in me that does not bear fruit he takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit. Already you are clean because of the word that I have spoken to you. Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing. If anyone does not abide in me he is thrown away like a branch, and withers; and the branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned. If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. By this my Father is glorified, that you bear much fruit and so prove to be my disciples.’
Reflection on the painting
Today’s Gospel reading from John brings us back to that intimate moment on the night before Jesus died. He is taking leave of His disciples. He assures them that beyond His death and resurrection, He will remain in deep communion with them, always. The image of the vine and the branches reveals just how close that communion is meant to be: not distant, not occasional, but living, constant, and life-giving.
There is something deeply consoling in this image of Christ as the vine and us as the branches. A branch does not struggle to produce life on its own; it simply remains connected, and the life of the vine flows through it. So it is with us. We are not asked to manufacture holiness or force fruitfulness; we are simply asked to stay close, to stay attached. The sap that rises through the vine becomes the life of the branch; in the same way, the grace of Christ flows quietly into our lives, nourishing, strengthening, and transforming us from within. And just as branches, though many, belong to one single vine, so we are all united in Him... different yes, yet deeply one.
Of course, we know how easily we can drift. We can slip out of that communion, cut ourselves off, become like branches that lose their connection to the vine. And yet, the invitation of Christ never fades. He is always calling us back, to return. We can reattach ourselves to the vine. It is in that returning, in that quiet fidelity, our lives begin to blossom again and to bear fruit.
Such fruits can be seen in our early 17th century Spanish painting attributed to Juan Fernández. This still life shows four abundant clusters of grapes hanging delicately against a dark background, each rendered with extraordinary care and realism. A central, rich blue-violet bunch is surrounded by golden grapes, all suspended from their stems, with twisting leaves catching the light. There is a quiet stillness to the composition, yet also a sense of hidden life: the sap of the vine has done its work, bringing forth such fullness and beauty. It is a perfect visual echo of today’s Gospel: just as the vine nourishes the branches to produce such fruit, so Christ nourishes us, enabling our lives to bear fruit beyond what we could ever achieve on our own. Paintings like this were often more than simple studies of nature. Grapes, so closely linked to wine, would also allude to the Eucharist: the fruit of the vine transformed into the Blood of Christ.Such fruits can be seen in our early 17th century Spanish painting attributed to Juan Fernández. This still life shows four abundant clusters of grapes hanging delicately against a dark background, each rendered with extraordinary care and realism. A central, rich blue-violet bunch is surrounded by golden grapes, all suspended from their stems, with twisting leaves catching the light. There is a quiet stillness to the composition, yet also a sense of hidden life: the sap of the vine has done its work, bringing forth such fullness and beauty. It is a perfect visual echo of today’s Gospel: just as the vine nourishes the branches to produce such fruit, so Christ nourishes us, enabling our lives to bear fruit beyond what we could ever achieve on our own. Paintings like this were often more than simple studies of nature. Grapes, so closely linked to wine, would also allude to the Eucharist: the fruit of the vine transformed into the Blood of Christ.
Still Life with four Bunches of Grapes,
Painting by Juan Fernández, known as El Labrador ("the peasant" or "the laborer"), active between 1629 and 1636),
Painted in 1636,
Oil on canvas
© Prado Museum, Madrid
Wednesday of the 5th week of Eastertide
The Lord has truly risen, alleluia.
Year: A(II). Psalm week: 1. Liturgical Colour: White.
Other saints: Saint François de Laval (1623 - 1708)
Canada
He was the first bishop of New France, later to become Canada. He founded a seminary and had schools and churches built. He resigned his bishopric in 1684 but remained in New France and acted as deputy to his successor. He was canonized by Pope Francis on 3 April 2014.
Today's gospel reading John 15:1-8 I am the vine; you are the branches
At that time: Jesus said to his disciples, ‘I am the true vine, and my Father is the vine dresser. Every branch in me that does not bear fruit he takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit. Already you are clean because of the word that I have spoken to you. Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing. If anyone does not abide in me he is thrown away like a branch, and withers; and the branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned. If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. By this my Father is glorified, that you bear much fruit and so prove to be my disciples.’
Reflection on the painting
Today’s Gospel reading from John brings us back to that intimate moment on the night before Jesus died. He is taking leave of His disciples. He assures them that beyond His death and resurrection, He will remain in deep communion with them, always. The image of the vine and the branches reveals just how close that communion is meant to be: not distant, not occasional, but living, constant, and life-giving.
There is something deeply consoling in this image of Christ as the vine and us as the branches. A branch does not struggle to produce life on its own; it simply remains connected, and the life of the vine flows through it. So it is with us. We are not asked to manufacture holiness or force fruitfulness; we are simply asked to stay close, to stay attached. The sap that rises through the vine becomes the life of the branch; in the same way, the grace of Christ flows quietly into our lives, nourishing, strengthening, and transforming us from within. And just as branches, though many, belong to one single vine, so we are all united in Him... different yes, yet deeply one.
Of course, we know how easily we can drift. We can slip out of that communion, cut ourselves off, become like branches that lose their connection to the vine. And yet, the invitation of Christ never fades. He is always calling us back, to return. We can reattach ourselves to the vine. It is in that returning, in that quiet fidelity, our lives begin to blossom again and to bear fruit.
Such fruits can be seen in our early 17th century Spanish painting attributed to Juan Fernández. This still life shows four abundant clusters of grapes hanging delicately against a dark background, each rendered with extraordinary care and realism. A central, rich blue-violet bunch is surrounded by golden grapes, all suspended from their stems, with twisting leaves catching the light. There is a quiet stillness to the composition, yet also a sense of hidden life: the sap of the vine has done its work, bringing forth such fullness and beauty. It is a perfect visual echo of today’s Gospel: just as the vine nourishes the branches to produce such fruit, so Christ nourishes us, enabling our lives to bear fruit beyond what we could ever achieve on our own. Paintings like this were often more than simple studies of nature. Grapes, so closely linked to wine, would also allude to the Eucharist: the fruit of the vine transformed into the Blood of Christ.Such fruits can be seen in our early 17th century Spanish painting attributed to Juan Fernández. This still life shows four abundant clusters of grapes hanging delicately against a dark background, each rendered with extraordinary care and realism. A central, rich blue-violet bunch is surrounded by golden grapes, all suspended from their stems, with twisting leaves catching the light. There is a quiet stillness to the composition, yet also a sense of hidden life: the sap of the vine has done its work, bringing forth such fullness and beauty. It is a perfect visual echo of today’s Gospel: just as the vine nourishes the branches to produce such fruit, so Christ nourishes us, enabling our lives to bear fruit beyond what we could ever achieve on our own. Paintings like this were often more than simple studies of nature. Grapes, so closely linked to wine, would also allude to the Eucharist: the fruit of the vine transformed into the Blood of Christ.
Still Life with four Bunches of Grapes,
Painting by Juan Fernández, known as El Labrador ("the peasant" or "the laborer"), active between 1629 and 1636),
Painted in 1636,
Oil on canvas
© Prado Museum, Madrid