Divine Mercy Sunday
Fr. Ben Riley
Do you remember celebrating your birthday as a child?
What about a specific birthday, good or bad?
I remember a few very specific birthdays.
One of them… not so great. I was probably 6 or 7 years old, and I fell into a mud pit in front of a girl I had a crush on and to this day, it is still one of the most embarrassing moments of my life.
But I also remember really good birthdays.
Especially one year—my best friend and I had birthdays just a couple of days apart, so we would often celebrate together. We had a party at a local paintball arena, and it was so much fun. I remember thinking at the end of that day, I wish I could celebrate my birthday every week.
Have you ever had that thought?
After a birthday… or a holiday… or a really good vacation?
“This was so good… but now I have to wait a whole year before I get to experience it again.”
A whole year before Christmas.
A whole year before my birthday.
A whole year before that feeling comes back.
We have all probably had that thought before.
But, there is one celebration we don’t have to wait for.
We just celebrated the glory of Christ’s resurrection last week. Easter Sunday.
And here is the most amazing thing, every Sunday… is Easter.
Not just as a reminder. Not just as a symbol.
But every Sunday, we are drawn back into the day that Christ rose from the dead. The Resurrection is not locked in the past. It is made present to us. We are not just remembering something that happened long ago— every week, every Sunday, we are stepping into it.
Which means that what happened on that first Easter morning… is happening today.
Christ is alive.
Christ is present.
Christ is here.
Christ is risen. Alleluia.
And that brings us to today’s Gospel.
The disciples are gathered in an upper room with the doors locked.
They are afraid. Confused. And Ashamed. They have failed. Peter has denied Jesus. The others abandoned him. Everything has fallen apart.
And what does Jesus do?
He does not wait for them to come out.
He does not wait for them to fix themselves.
He enters into that room.
Right through the locked door.
And the first words out of his mouth are not condemnation, not disappointment, not even correction. The first thing he says.
“Peace be with you.”
And then he shows them his wounds.
Not erased. Not hidden. But glorified.
And in that moment, something extraordinary happens.
Jesus breathes on them and says:
“Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them, and whose sins you retain are retained.
This is the moment the sacrament of Confession is given to the Church.
The mercy that flows from the wounds of Christ is now entrusted to his apostles.
And that is exactly what we celebrate today on Divine Mercy Sunday.
In the revelations to Saint Faustina, Jesus shows her this image in front of the altar: rays of red and pale light flowing from his heart—the blood and water that flowed from his pierced side. His grace and mercy being poured out for us. The wellspring of the church’s sacraments.
Those rays come from his wounds.
The very wounds caused by sin… have become the source of mercy.
Which means: Sin does not have the final word.
God’s mercy does.
It is exactly the wound that harmed you most that God wants to use for your greatest healing.
And yet, many of us still don’t believe.
We are still like those disciples.
Behind locked doors.
We carry these heavy burdens of—sin, shame, regret, —and we think to ourselves, “If I could just fix this first… then I could come to God.”
But the Gospel shows us the opposite.
Jesus enters first.
Mercy comes first.
Healing comes after.
And, this is important. The Church teaches that even when sin is forgiven, something still remains—the effect our sin has had on the body of Christ. The effect our sin has had on: our families, our friends, our community, and the church. Because sin is never personal or private. It wounds the body of Christ.
It’s kind of like this. I love this analogy. When we sin, it is like driving a nail into a block of wood. That is our free choice to wound our relationship with God. The sacrament of confession removes the nail, it removes the sin, so that it never existed at all. But what still remains? There is a hole in the block of wood. The effect, the residue, of our sin that is left over even after our contrition.
And because God loves us, He does not leave us that way.
He heals even this.
While we live, this is what penance does for us, in the next life, it’s what purgatory does for us.
Not a place of despair. Those in purgatory are assured of their salvation. But it’s what we might call heaven’s hospital.
The final purification of the soul. The completion and perfection of God’s grace within us.
Because Jesus says in the Gospel, “You will not get out until you have paid the last penny.” In that verse, He is speaking of purgatory.
And if we listen to the saints, many of whom have been given visions of heaven, hell, and purgatory. There is one theme that comes up again and again: They speak of how they wish I had taken this more seriously.
They wish I had responded sooner.
They wish I had understood the power of God’s divine mercy and prayed for the souls in purgatory.
And so, my friends, don’t wait.
Don’t wait another year.
Don’t wait until things get worse.
Don’t wait until you feel ready.
The celebration is now.
Today.
Every Sunday is Easter.
The mercy is now.
The risen Christ is here.
And he is still saying:
“Peace be with you.”