A week after the Resurrection, the doors are still locked. Fear lingers, doubt remains. Into that closed room, Jesus enters once again- not with condemnation, but with peace. “Peace be with you,” He says, and then turns to Thomas with a tender invitation: “Put your finger here… do not be unbelieving, but believe” (John 20:27).

Thomas’s journey is deeply relatable. We want to believe, but we wrestle with questions. We long for proof, yet Jesus calls us to trust. And in the end, Thomas’s doubt is transformed into one of the most profound confessions of faith in Scripture: “My Lord and my God!” His encounter reveals the heart of Divine Mercy- a Savior who meets us where we are and offers peace instead of judgment, presence instead of reproach.

Easter Sunday dawns not with trumpet blasts or heavenly choirs, but with quiet footsteps in the dark. Mary Magdalene arrives at the tomb early, while it is still dark (John 20:1). She finds the stone rolled away- and nothing makes sense. She runs to Peter and John, frantic. When John reaches the tomb and steps inside, he sees the burial cloths- and believes.

What did he see? Nothing but emptiness: no angelic appearance, no risen Jesus- just the folded linen. And yet, that was enough to stir faith. “He saw and believed” (John 20:8).

Palm Sunday begins with cries of “Hosanna!” and ends in silence. It begins with palm branches waving for a king and concludes with a stone-sealed tomb. In the space between is the most profound story ever told: a story not just of suffering, but of love, surrender, and divine purpose.

One striking feature of the Passion narrative in Luke’s Gospel is the quiet strength of Jesus. He speaks, but not much. He accepts betrayal, denial, ridicule, and torture- yet He does not retaliate. When He does speak, it is with authority and compassion: “Father, forgive them,” “Today you will be with me in Paradise,” “Into your hands I commend my spirit.” These are not the words of a victim, but of a Savior.

Lent is a season of surrender- of letting go of what was, so we can receive what God is doing now. In today’s readings, we hear a gentle but firm call to open our hearts to something new. Isaiah proclaims God’s message: “Remember not the events of the past… see, I am doing something new! Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?” (Isaiah 43:18-19). This is not a dismissal of the past, but an invitation to stop living under its shadow. God desires to lead us forward- to water our deserts and revive what feels barren in us.