Third Sunday of Easter, Year A (2026) - Fr James Baxter, OP

One of the many perverse events of the French Revolution was its regular public executions, at which crowds would gather to watch and cheer.

A famous exception was the execution of the sixteen Carmelite sisters of Compiegne, when the crowd reportedly watched in silence. They seemed to realise that something truly horrific was happening, as they watched the sisters praying, singing, and kissing the statue of Our Lady, before they went up the scaffold to the guillotine.

It is not quite the same story at the crucifixion of Jesus. Rather than watching in silence, we are told that the crowd and the passersby were shouting at him and mocking him as he died.

But the aftermath was different. After the darkness that came over the land, after the earthquake, after seeing the blood and water that came from the side of Jesus, and having heard the forgiving and comforting words that he spoke, the centurion and those with him declared, “this was truly the son of God.”

Then the crowds returned home in a state of sorrow, beating their breasts with – we can guess – shame, remorse, and horror.

That is in the background of the passage that is today’s first reading, Peter’s sermon to the crowd on the day of Pentecost. Among the crowd, it seems, are those who were complicit in the death of Jesus.

When Peter accuses them – “You killed him” – it is possible that he means you as a people. But far more likely is that standing in front of him are people who were directly complicit in the death of Jesus: “This man … you took and had crucified by men outside the Law.”

The next time he addresses the crowd, after the healing of the man lame from birth, he acknowledges that they did not know what they were doing: “I know that you acted in ignorance, as did also your rulers.”

And, he could have added, I know many of you were horrified afterwards at everything that took place.

With these accusations, Peter prepares the ground for a critical religious and moral question: what do you do when you've done something really awful?

What do you do when you are carrying the kind of guilt that makes you beat your breast in shame?

If today’s first reading went for a little longer, we would have heard the people ask almost exactly this. They are, we are told, “cut to the heart”, and say to Peter and the apostles, “What do we do?”

The first word Peter says to them in response is – “Repent.”

What is involved in that? First it means looking at what it is you have done, and seeing it rightly; that is, not seeing it as laudable, nor morally neutral, nor something to be explained away or excused. It means seeing the action as the evil action that it is, turning away from it with sorrow, and turning towards God with a humbled and contrite heart.

That’s a long version of “repent”. But putting things right will always start there, and in placing that at the forefront of his message, Peter is following the tradition of John the Baptist and Jesus before him, both of whom began their preaching ministries with the message of repentance.

Peter delivers his message as a sermon. Over the rest of Eastertide we will often hear sermons and excerpts of sermons from the Acts of the Apostles, first from Peter, and later from Paul. Without fail they ground their explanations of Jesus’ death and resurrection in the context of Old Testament prophecy.

Again, they are following the example of Jesus, who in our Gospel reading for today explains the scriptures to a depressed but receptive pair of disciples. The disciples’ reflection, “did not our hearts burn within us”, is something that many disciples since have experienced. It can be exhilarating to hear someone who knows the scriptures well, to explain how the Old Testament foreshadows the life and deeds of Jesus. And even though we are very unlikely to experience this in every Mass, every Mass still engages both head and heart.

We begin with the collective act of repentance that is the Penitential Rite. In the Liturgy of the Word, we listen to the scriptures proclaimed and explained. Our response to the readings is words of gratitude and praise. In the Liturgy of the Eucharist, a joyful act of thanksgiving to God, like today’s disciples we recognise Jesus in the breaking of the bread – “Behold, the Lamb of God.” We end the Mass with those familiar words of gratitude, “Thanks be to God.”

What Jesus did for these disciples on the road to Emmaus was not a one-off. He continues to guide, to accompany, to teach, and to make himself present for us in the breaking of the bread.

Fr James Baxter, OP is the Parish Priest of Broadway, Glebe, and Pyrmont, New South Wales.