Easter Sunday: The Resurrection of Our Lord, God, and Saviour Jesus Christ.

A reading from the Holy Gospel according to the Apostle and Evangelist Saint John (Jn 1:1–18):

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.

He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through Him, and without Him nothing was made that has been made.

In Him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

There was a man sent from God; his name was John. He came as a witness, to bear witness to the Light, so that all might believe through him. He was not the Light, but came to bear witness to the Light.

The true Light, which enlightens every man, was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world was made through Him, yet the world did not know Him.

He came to His own, and His own did not receive Him. But to all who did receive Him, He gave the power to become children of God, to those who believe in His name; who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God.

And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen His glory, glory as of the only-begotten Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.

John bears witness about Him and cries out: ‘This was He of whom I said, “He who comes after me ranks before me, because He was before me.”’

From His fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.

For the Law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ.

No one has ever seen God; the only-begotten Son, who is in the bosom of the Father, He has made Him known.”

Homily

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ,

Christ is risen! Truly He is risen!

This proclamation is not just another word among many. It is the very heart of faith, the life of the Church, the breath of our soul. It is not merely something we proclaim: it is a reality into which we are called to enter.

Easter is not a memory, but a presence. Not a past event, but an eternal mystery that becomes accessible today, here and now, in the life of the Church and in the heart of each one of us.

Yet, precisely because this mystery is so great, our hearts often remain suspended between faith and questioning: if Christ is truly risen, why does the world still remain wounded? Why does evil still seem to have space?

This is not a lack of faith. It is the very question of the disciples themselves. Even after encountering the Risen Lord, they ask: “Lord, will You at this time restore the kingdom to Israel?” (Acts 1:6)

They await a visible manifestation, an immediate transformation of history. But the Lord leads them deeper into a greater mystery: “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be My witnesses” (Acts 1:8).

Saint John Chrysostom reflects on this passage, saying: “See how He draws them away from earthly thoughts and raises them to higher realities? He does not speak of visible kingdoms, but of the Spirit who will make them stronger than all things.” (Homilies on the Acts of the Apostles, Homily II, PG 60, 33).

Thus, the Resurrection does not impose itself as an external power, but is communicated as an interior life. It does not coerce, but transfigures. It does not dominate, but divinises.

For this reason, the Church leads us even deeper, to the mystery of the eternal Word: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God” (Jn 1:1).

He who is risen is Life itself. He is the uncreated Light that enlightens every man: “In Him was life, and the life was the light of men” (Jn 1:4).

And this light shines in the darkness of the world and of the human heart: “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (Jn 1:5).

It does not say that darkness disappears, but something far greater: it cannot overcome the light.

Here the heart of Easter opens before us.

Christ did not rise in order to return to ordinary life. He did not simply come back from death: He transfigured death itself and opened a new path in human existence.

Saint Athanasius proclaims with theological depth: “The Word of God became man so that we might become god.” (On the Incarnation, 54.3; PG 25, 192B).

The Resurrection is this: theosis, real participation in divine life. Not only salvation from sin, but entrance into the life of God. Not only redemption, but transformation.

Saint Gregory of Nyssa expresses it thus: “The true life of man is participation in the divine light.” (On the Beatitudes, PG 44, 1272).

Thus we understand: Easter is not something we observe from the outside. It is a life into which we are called to enter.

To rise means to allow oneself to be transformed. It means that the heart, touched by grace, begins to live according to a new logic:

no longer according to fear, but according to trust;

no longer according to isolation, but according to communion;

no longer according to death, but according to life.

And this happens in silence, in secrecy, in the depth of the heart. Not always visible to the eyes of the world, but truly real.

Every time we choose light, the Resurrection becomes manifest.

Every time we love, death is already defeated.

Every time we open ourselves to grace, divine life begins to dwell within us.

Dear brothers and sisters, what we have contemplated is not an idea. It is a living reality. And with reverence and gratitude, I can say that, though utterly unworthy, I have received a sign of it in my own life.

On the most holy night of the Resurrection, 4 May 2024, while the Church was proclaiming with great joy “Christ is risen!”, I received priestly ordination according to the rite of our holy Orthodox Tradition. Everything was enveloped in Paschal light: not merely a visible light, but a living light that penetrated all things and made a Presence perceptible.

And at the moment of the anointing with the holy chrism, this presence became almost tangible to me.

Time seemed to stop. The liturgical act was no longer merely a sign, but a living reality. I sensed that something was happening within the depths of my being: I was not simply receiving, but being transformed.

And there, in silence, I perceived a maternal presence.

Before that moment, as I was walking toward the Church of the Good Shepherd, I had prayed intensely to the Most Holy Mother, asking her to remain close to me.

And during that anointing, in my heart I clearly heard a response: “I am with you.”

It was not a thought. It was presence.

And I wept silently—not in sorrow, but because the heart recognises when it is touched by grace.

In that instant I understood that we are never alone: the new life of the Resurrection is living communion with Christ, with the saints, and with the Mother of God, who accompanies and guards us.

And the Lord also wished to give me a sign the following day.

The next morning, while I was staying at my sister’s house, my brother-in-law—who openly declares himself an atheist—approached me and asked: “Did you burn incense in your room?”

I replied, surprised: “Absolutely not, I was asleep. Are you sure? Perhaps you smelled the fragrance of the liturgical vestments…”

But he insisted: “No, no… it was as if you had just burned incense at that very moment, and the smell was strong.”

So I said: “No, truly, I did not burn any incense.”

That simple event became for me a sign, and immediately the words of the Psalmist came to my mind: “Let my prayer be counted as incense before You” (Psalm 141:2).

Where there was nothing, a fragrance was manifested. Not by suggestion, but as a gift. Not to convince, but to confirm.

God does not only visit: He seals. He does not only speak: He leaves traces.

Dear brothers and sisters, Easter is all of this: not an idea, but a life. Not a memory, but a presence. Not a distant promise, but a reality that begins now.

“To all who received Him, He gave the power to become children of God” (Jn 1:12).

Saint Leo the Great exhorts us: “Recognise, O Christian, your dignity: you have become a participant in the divine nature.” (Sermon I on the Nativity, 3; PL 54, 192).

Let us therefore live as those who are risen. Let us not be overcome by darkness, but let us allow the light to dwell within us. Let us not bring only words into the world, but a transformed life.

For the true proof of the Resurrection is not what we say, but what we become.

And now, with one heart and one voice, let us proclaim the victory of life:

Χριστὸς ἀνέστη! Ἀληθῶς ἀνέστη!

Christus resurrexit! Vere resurrexit!

Cristo è risorto! Veramente è risorto!

Christ is risen! Truly He is risen!

Archpriest Michele Alberto Del Duca.