Easter 2026. The General Council: «Men and Women of the Dawn»

Easter 2026

Men and Women of the Dawn

Dear confrères.
On the morning of Easter, the Gospel of John leads us to the empty tomb of Jesus. Mary Magdalene runs. Peter and the Beloved Disciple run. All of them are moved by a restlessness and a hope they are not yet able to name. The tomb is open. Yet it is precisely within this sign of absence that faith begins to be born – a birth narrated with the sobriety of dawn: a “stone removed from the tomb”, some “linen cloths lying there”, “a face-cloth… folded in a place by itself” (cf. Jn 20:5–7), an empty tomb. Everything seems fragile, almost insufficient. And yet it is precisely in this timid discretion, as if avoiding the spotlight, that God chooses to reveal his victory. The resurrection always blossoms in the heart of those who allow themselves to be surprised, without demanding immediate explanations, but pausing to look and to let themselves be questioned by the signs.

This is the experience of the Beloved Disciple as he enters the tomb. He does not see the Risen One, yet something is kindled within him: a silent intuition, a light that does not dazzle but illuminates from within. “He saw and believed” (Jn 20:8).

For us, too, Easter faith begins like a spark within the conscience, like a gentle breeze passing through the soul. It makes no sound, yet it changes our way of seeing. Suddenly, what seemed to be an ending becomes a beginning; what appeared to be loss opens itself to promise. The astonished heart senses that the life of God is already at work in the folds of history.

For this reason, the Resurrection is always also an inner event. It is not only something that happened to Jesus, but something that happens also in those who allow themselves to be reached by its quietly perceived presence. It is the moment when hope, almost imperceptibly, takes root within us and transforms fear into trust.

The Resurrection does not conquer by force: it attracts with light. It does not compel: it calls. It does not overwhelm: it slowly opens the space of faith. And when a heart allows itself to be surprised by this discreet presence, the morning of Easter truly begins.

Also lives today often resembles that run in the still uncertain morning. The world in which we live is marked by fears, wars, inequalities and profound loneliness. Many men and women feel as if they were standing before a tomb: they look for signs of life, while everything seems to speak only of loss or of an end. And yet, precisely where emptiness seems to prevail, the Lord continues to prepare for the dawn.

Easter reminds us that God does not always act through spectacular signs, but through the quiet renewal of life. Like Peter and the Beloved Disciple, we too are called to enter the folds of history, to look attentively, and to recognise the small signs of resurrection already sprouting in communities, in families, and in wounded hearts that rediscover hope.

The Gospel highlights a simple gesture: running together. It is not merely the anxious journey of two disciples, but the image of a Church that walks in brotherhood, that shares in the quest, and that never tires of believing, even when understanding is still incomplete. On this journey, scattered in many parts of the world, we are united by the same vocation: to bear witness that life is stronger than death.

Our mission today unfolds in very different contexts: crowded cities and forgotten peripheries, spaces of dialogue and places of conflict, vibrant communities and regions marked by spiritual weariness. Yet, wherever we are, Easter invites us to be men and women of the dawn: people who do not resign themselves to the night and who hold fast to the certainty that the Lord is already at work.

Perhaps, like the disciples, we too do not always understand everything. The Gospel says: “They had not yet understood the Scripture” (Jn 20:9). And yet, faith begins precisely there: in trusting in what God is doing beyond what we can see. Then, every act of service, every word of comfort, every choice of brotherhood becomes a small sign of the empty tomb.

This Easter, we wish to reach out to all of you, wherever you may be, with a message of gratitude and communion. Our paths may differ, but the source of our journeying is the same: the Risen Christ who continues to call us and send us forth.

May the morning of Easter renew in all of us the joy of our vocation and our trust in the Gospel.

Like the Beloved Disciple, we too are invited to “see and believe”: to see God’s presence in history and to believe that his promise never fails. From this faith our hope and our witness are born.

May our fraternal greeting reach each one of you. And may the light of Easter illuminate our path, strengthen our fraternity and make our service fruitful.

Christ is risen, and with him every night can truly become dawn.

The General Council