About Today
Sunday 12 April 2026
Divine Mercy Sunday (2nd Sunday of Easter)
The Lord has truly risen, alleluia.
Year: A(II). Liturgical Colour: White.
Other saints: St Zeno of Verona (d. 371)
Kenya, Southern Africa
Divine Mercy Sunday
Now Thomas, one of the Twelve, called the Twin, was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, ‘We have seen the Lord’. But he said to them, ‘Unless I see in his hands the mark of the nails, and place my finger into the mark of the nails, and place my hand into his side, I will never believe.’
Eight days later, his disciples were inside again, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you.’ Then he said to Thomas, ‘Put your finger here, and see my hands; and put out your hand, andplace it in my side. Do not disbelieve, but believe.’ Thomas answered him, ‘My Lord and my God!’ Jesus said to him, ‘Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.’
Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of the disciples, which are not written in this book; but these are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.
Reflection on the painting
In the Gospels, such as the reading today, the risen Christ does something consistent each time he appears: he shows his wounds, and he says 'peace be with you'. He show thephysical wounds, and then he speaks words. Two essential things always present at his post resurrection appearances. First, when showing his wounds, he is doing far more tha noffering a mere proof of identity. Yes, the disciples recognise him as the same Jesus who was crucified, but deeper still, he is revealing the continuity of love. The resurrection is not areset, as if Good Friday could be erased. The wounds remain because love remains. They are the visible memory of a love that did not turn back, that went to the very end. In showing them, Jesus is saying: this is who I am, one who loves you unto death and beyond. The wounds are not scars of failure, but trophies of victory, trophies of love.
And there is maybe something even more disarming. By showing his wounds, Jesus meets the disciples precisely in their own woundedness. These men had failed him. They had runaway, denied him, paralysed by fear. One might expect reproach. Instead, he shows them his pierced hands and open side. It is as if he is saying: your weakness did not destroy me; my love has absorbed it all, and I have forgiven you, let's move on and start the real work
Then he speaks: “Peace be with you.” Not once, but again and again. This is no casual greeting. It is again the gift of mercy and reconciliation. The disciples who had fled are not met with blame, but with peace. The wounds and the peace belong together. The wounds show the cost of love; the peace reveals its fruit.
I have long found this painting puzzling. There is something almost unsettling about it.Giovanni Antonio Galli presents Christ not in triumph, not surrounded by disciples, not even clearly in a narrative moment... but alone, confronting us. He opens his garment and deliberately reveals his wounds, especially the wound in his side, drawing our gaze to it. And yet his expression is difficult to read. It is neither fully serene nor overtly sorrowful. There is a tension in his face, as if he is asking something of us rather than simply offering comfort.This ambiguity I somehow struggle with. What are we meant to feel when we look at this painting: are we meant to feel consoled, challenged, or even disturbed?
This unease is, I suspect, exactly what the artist intended. The painting belongs to the tradition known as the Man of Sorrows, where Christ presents his wounds directly to the viewer for contemplation rather than within a narrative scene. In such images, Christ is notjust showing what happened to him; he is inviting a response. His gaze meets ours, and his wounds are almost held out like evidence... evidence of love that demands recognition. So perhaps the painting feels “odd” because it demands a response from us.
Christ Displaying His Wounds,Painting by Giovanni Antonio Galli (1585–1652),Painted circa 1625,Oil on canvas© Courtesy of Perth Museum & Art Gallery, Perth &
Divine Mercy Sunday (2nd Sunday of Easter)
The Lord has truly risen, alleluia.
Year: A(II). Liturgical Colour: White.
Other saints: St Zeno of Verona (d. 371)
Kenya, Southern Africa
Divine Mercy Sunday
Today's gospel reading John 20:19-31
On the evening of that day, the first day of the week, the doors being locked where the disciples were for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said to them,‘Peace be with you.’ When he had said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples were glad when they saw the Lord. Jesus said to them again, ‘Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, even so I am sending you.’ And when he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you with hold forgiveness from any, it is with held.’Now Thomas, one of the Twelve, called the Twin, was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, ‘We have seen the Lord’. But he said to them, ‘Unless I see in his hands the mark of the nails, and place my finger into the mark of the nails, and place my hand into his side, I will never believe.’
Eight days later, his disciples were inside again, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you.’ Then he said to Thomas, ‘Put your finger here, and see my hands; and put out your hand, andplace it in my side. Do not disbelieve, but believe.’ Thomas answered him, ‘My Lord and my God!’ Jesus said to him, ‘Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.’
Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of the disciples, which are not written in this book; but these are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.
Reflection on the painting
In the Gospels, such as the reading today, the risen Christ does something consistent each time he appears: he shows his wounds, and he says 'peace be with you'. He show thephysical wounds, and then he speaks words. Two essential things always present at his post resurrection appearances. First, when showing his wounds, he is doing far more tha noffering a mere proof of identity. Yes, the disciples recognise him as the same Jesus who was crucified, but deeper still, he is revealing the continuity of love. The resurrection is not areset, as if Good Friday could be erased. The wounds remain because love remains. They are the visible memory of a love that did not turn back, that went to the very end. In showing them, Jesus is saying: this is who I am, one who loves you unto death and beyond. The wounds are not scars of failure, but trophies of victory, trophies of love.
And there is maybe something even more disarming. By showing his wounds, Jesus meets the disciples precisely in their own woundedness. These men had failed him. They had runaway, denied him, paralysed by fear. One might expect reproach. Instead, he shows them his pierced hands and open side. It is as if he is saying: your weakness did not destroy me; my love has absorbed it all, and I have forgiven you, let's move on and start the real work
Then he speaks: “Peace be with you.” Not once, but again and again. This is no casual greeting. It is again the gift of mercy and reconciliation. The disciples who had fled are not met with blame, but with peace. The wounds and the peace belong together. The wounds show the cost of love; the peace reveals its fruit.
I have long found this painting puzzling. There is something almost unsettling about it.Giovanni Antonio Galli presents Christ not in triumph, not surrounded by disciples, not even clearly in a narrative moment... but alone, confronting us. He opens his garment and deliberately reveals his wounds, especially the wound in his side, drawing our gaze to it. And yet his expression is difficult to read. It is neither fully serene nor overtly sorrowful. There is a tension in his face, as if he is asking something of us rather than simply offering comfort.This ambiguity I somehow struggle with. What are we meant to feel when we look at this painting: are we meant to feel consoled, challenged, or even disturbed?
This unease is, I suspect, exactly what the artist intended. The painting belongs to the tradition known as the Man of Sorrows, where Christ presents his wounds directly to the viewer for contemplation rather than within a narrative scene. In such images, Christ is notjust showing what happened to him; he is inviting a response. His gaze meets ours, and his wounds are almost held out like evidence... evidence of love that demands recognition. So perhaps the painting feels “odd” because it demands a response from us.
Christ Displaying His Wounds,Painting by Giovanni Antonio Galli (1585–1652),Painted circa 1625,Oil on canvas© Courtesy of Perth Museum & Art Gallery, Perth &