Apr 23, 2025 | DAILY BREAD
Easter Wednesday
St. George
First reading Acts 3:1-10
On this Easter Wednesday, the Word invites us to contemplate the profound power of the Resurrection at work through the apostles. Peter’s words—“I have neither silver nor gold, but I will give you what I have: in the name of Jesus Christ the Nazarene, walk!”—reveal the fruit of an intimate union with the Risen Lord. He does not offer wealth or status, but something infinitely greater: the living presence and power of Christ. Yet Peter does not stop at proclaiming healing; he reaches out his hand and helps the man to stand. In this simple yet transformative gesture, we glimpse the Church’s mission: to speak Christ with authority and to lift others in His name. Pope Francis embodied this same apostolic heart—he walked with the wounded, gave voice to the voiceless, and continually urged the world to rise with courage, dignity, and faith. To believe in the Resurrection is not merely to await Heaven—it is to extend our hand and help others rise today with the power of Jesus Risen experienced in your personal relationship with Him. The true sign of Easter is not only the empty tomb, but the heart filled with His living presence, ready to act. Just as Peter, deeply united with the Risen Christ, spoke healing and extended his hand to the man at the temple gate, so too are we called to become instruments of Christ’s compassion and strength. When we know Him not only in doctrine but in the intimacy of prayer and trust, we carry His life within us—life that lifts, restores, and renews. Every time we help someone rise, from sorrow, from injustice, from loneliness, we proclaim that the Resurrection is real and active in our world today.
Don Giorgio
Apr 22, 2025 | DAILY BREAD
Easter Tuesday
The day after the death of Pope Francis
First reading Acts 2:36-41
On this Easter Tuesday, just a day after the passing of Pope Francis, the Word from Acts echoes with solemn clarity: “God has made this Jesus, whom you crucified, both Lord and Christ.” In the shadow of grief, this declaration becomes not merely a theological truth but a lifeline, reminding us that the victory of the Risen Christ is not diminished by death, even the death of a beloved shepherd. Rather, it is magnified in our sorrow. It calls us to grow, not merely in knowledge of the faith, but in the certainty of it. This certainty is not cold or rigid, but vibrant and transformative. It gives rise to a hope that endures suffering without yielding to despair, and to a love that is not self-preserving, but self-giving. In the life and final witness of Pope Francis who spent himself for the Gospel until his last breath we glimpse what it means to be anchored in this certainty. He spoke often of God’s mercy and the joy of the Gospel, because he believed firmly that Jesus Christ is alive, present, and Lord. To grow in the certainty that Jesus is Lord is to allow Him to reshape every part of our lives, to carry us through grief with peace, and to impel us into the world with courage. In these sacred days, when death has touched the Church so closely, may we not shrink back in doubt, but walk forward with hearts firm in faith, knowing that the Christ who triumphed over the grave continues to shepherd His people through every night into radiant morning. Let’s reflect: Easter is an invitation to grow in the certainty of faith in the Lordship of Jesus.
Don Giorgio
Apr 21, 2025 | DAILY BREAD
Easter Monday
First reading Acts 2:14,22-33
On this Easter Monday, the Church invites us to remain in the radiant light of the Resurrection and to listen anew to the testimony of St. Peter in the Acts of the Apostles. Standing before the people, Peter does not rely on vague sentiment or personal conviction alone to proclaim his faith. He grounds his proclamation in the Scriptures and in the lived reality of what he and the other apostles have seen and touched. The Risen Christ, he declares, is the fulfilment of God’s promises, the One who conquered death and now pours forth the Spirit upon all who believe. This bold and reasoned defence of the Resurrection teaches us that Easter is not a mere symbolic celebration, but the unveiling of the deepest truth of human existence: that Christ, once crucified, now lives forever, and in Him, life has triumphed over death. The light of Easter shines not only into our emotions but into our understanding, enlightening our minds to grasp the mystery of God’s redemptive plan. It calls us to move beyond surface-level faith and to embrace a deeper, more anchored hope, one that is founded on the Word of God and the witness of the Church. In this light, we begin to see all things differently—our past with mercy, our present with courage, and our future with unshakable trust. Let’s reflect: Easter is an invitation to confront the reality of the Risen Christ not with emotion alone, but with faith illumined and fortified by the Word of God.
Don Giorgio
Apr 19, 2025 | DAILY BREAD
- The wall of the Tomb of Christ is now a door
The Resurrection is not a metaphor — it is a cosmic event, a divine uprising. Christ did not simply return from death — He overthrew death itself. He broke its grip from the inside. On Holy Saturday, death believed it had won. But Christ descended into its depths not as a victim, but as a redeemer. He shattered the gates of Hades and led the captives into freedom. He demolished it from inside. And now He walks out, not wounded but glorified, not defeated but enthroned.This is not resuscitation — it is new creation. The Risen Christ does not return to the past; He opens the future. He is the firstborn of a glorified humanity, whole and eternal. His Resurrection is not a display — it is an invitation. If death has lost its sting, then everything shifts: our fear, our grief, our mortality. The tomb is no longer a wall. It is now a door — into life, into glory, into God. - The Silence of the Tomb is now the Eloquence of Eternity
The silence of the tomb has been broken — not with noise, but with eternity. The stillness of death gives way to the roar of resurrection power. The stone is rolled away not to let Jesus out, but to let us in — into the radiant reality where life conquers death forever. More than that, the stone is rolled away from our hearts. The barriers we built, the fears we’ve buried, the graves we carry inside — they crack open as the glory of Christ breaks through. The empty tomb is not a riddle to be solved but a message to be proclaimed: He is not here — He is risen. From that moment, history splits. Light invades darkness. The Church becomes the echo of the empty grave — a people who carry resurrection wherever fear and death still reign. We are not just witnesses; we are messengers of the victory no tomb can silence. - The stillness of the death is now the life of Christ Risen
If Christ is truly risen, then despair has been dethroned. Sin, suffering, and death do not get the final word. The final word is life. The final word is Christ. On this night, light shatters the shadows, and the Church cries out: Lumen Christi — the Light of Christ. And this light is not delicate. It is defiant. It pierces tombs, breaks chains, and rewrites stories. It speaks to every wounded place: You are not forgotten. You are not beyond healing. You are not beyond hope.The Resurrection tells us that no grave is permanent. That no shame is eternal. That no night is forever. Christ is not only risen from the dead — He is risen into us. Into our history. Into our hearts. Into the wounds we thought would never speak again. This hope is not a dream but a Person, radiant and risen, , who lives in our midst and who takes from night to light, from fear to trust, from death to life.
The Cross was not the end — it was the threshold. And now, we must rise with Him.
Don Giorgio
Apr 18, 2025 | DAILY BREAD
Good Friday
Readings Isaiah 52:13-53:12, Hebrews 4:14-16,5:7-9.
At the hour when power seems to triumph, God chooses the Cross as His throne and exposes the lie of every ego that claims victory through strength. This is not passive suffering—it is radical mercy. On Golgotha, Christ does not merely die; He changes the course of history. Every lash He bears, every nail that pierces, every cry He utters is a strike against the dominion of sin, violence, and death. The crucified Christ unleashes His love unto the end. The world mocks, “Come down from the Cross,” but He stays—not because He is powerless, but because He refuses to save Himself while we remain enslaved. On this day, we do not mourn a martyr—we fall before the pierced God who overturns justice with mercy, power with sacrifice, death with surrender. The Cross is not the end of hope; it is the apocalypse of false hopes. If we call ourselves His disciples, then we must not only gaze upon the crucifix—we must take it up. For Good Friday is not a day to pity Christ—it is the day He calls us to die with Him. To die to the comforts. To die to the controls. To die to the illusion that holiness comes without wounds. This is the hour of truth, and the Cross is the only pulpit from which love speaks without compromise.
Don Giorgio
Apr 17, 2025 | DAILY BREAD
Maundy Thursday
Readings Exodus 12:1-8,11-14; 1 Corinthians 11:23-26
Maundy Thursday is not a mere ritual but a revolution, an eruption of divine love that overturns the logic of the world. In the upper room, Jesus does not simply share bread and wine; He gives His very Body and Blood, instituting the Eucharist as a radical act of deliverance, echoing the Exodus but now leading us from the slavery of sin into the freedom of grace. Like the Israelites, we are called to eat in haste, ready to move, for the Eucharist is food for exiles and pilgrims, not as comfort, but for courage. Courage to walk together with God and one another. At this unique table, God kneels before man, the Master becomes the servant, and power is redefined through humility and sacrifice. In commanding us to “Do this in memory of me,” Christ does not ask for repetition but imitation, a Church that lives the Mass as mission, where every Eucharist fuels a revolution of love against indifference, pride, and injustice. On this night, the altar becomes the front line of self-gift, the chalice and paten the platform where lives are transformed into offerings of love, and we, the Body of Christ, crucified with Him in the Cross, are summoned to follow the Lamb through the Red Sea of His Passion, not as spectators, but as members of His mystical Body in motion. Let’s reflect: What do I really learn from the Altar?
Don Giorgio
