On the day that is "like the heart of the Holy Year of Mercy" (April 3, 16), Pope Francis pointed out an essential and luminous characteristic of the Christian faith: that it must be a merciful faith.

The salvation that Christ has won for us is the work of divine mercy, which calls for our faith. This becomes clear when Jesus appears before his apostles. And specifically before Thomas, whom he invites to put his finger in the open side of Jesus, at the same time promising him: "Blessed are those who have believed without seeing" (Jn 20:29). This applies to all believers. This is why the Pope spoke of a "beatitude of faith". That is to say, blessed are those who have faith, meaning those who have a living faith, those who truly, coherently and with all their strength, live by faith.

What does it take to live by faith? Since Jesus is the way, the truth and the life (cf. Jn. 14:6), in him is the full and true Life (cf. Jn. 1:4). It is not surprising that, from the beginning of his pontificate, Francis invites us to "touch" the wounds that the glorious body of Christ preserves in himself and also in the poor and needy, with whom he wishes to identify himself. Indeed, recognizing him in the most destitute is the only way for him to recognize us on the last day (cf. Mt. 25:35 ff.).

Among the first Christians, on the second Sunday of Easter, the white garment that had been put on them at the Easter Vigil was removed from the newly baptized. This was done because from the moment of their baptism they were clothed with Christ (cf. Phil 2:5). Today, thousands of new adult Christians are baptized on the Easter Vigil all over the world. At the same time, we know that in our time there continue to be persecutions and the deaths of many others who give their lives precisely because they are Christians. These are realities of lived faith that should lead us to think about our faith. Many embrace it and many give their lives for it. What about us?

These days of Easter are a good time to begin the Christian life anew, with the joy and peace that only Christ can bring us. When we meet Christ, all previous things become relative. So only in that meeting each one will be able to say, as Raniero Cantalamessa has expressed evoking the well-known song of Edith Piaff: Je ne regrette rien, I miss nothing, because today that I am with you, everything begins again.

Mercy Sunday reminds us, says the Pope (cf.speech on Vespers of Mercy Sunday, April 2, 2016), that we must not get used to it, but rather, we must know how to receive it, seek it, desire it, and even offer it. Mercy means closeness and is manifested in financial aid and protection, in compassion and communication, consolation and forgiveness.

The Bible presents God as a father and a mother who take their little son and press him to their cheek: this is Christ's love for us, in deeds. This is what we should do with the one who is farthest away, the weakest, the one who is alone, confused and marginalized. We should go out to look for the lost sheep, perhaps contagious, and dare to look them in the eye, because each person is unique and valuable before God. To approach and touch their wound, which is the wound of Jesus, and to caress it. And also to let others touch and caress our wounds.

And along these paths Francis arrives at the central point: "A faith that is not capable of being merciful, as the wounds of the Lord are a sign of mercy, is not faith, it is an idea, it is ideology" (Ibid.).

That is why lived faith is not simply "practicing the faith" in the sense of knowing Christian doctrine and participating in Mass, going to confession, praying often, etc. Without that, of course, there is no Christian faith properly speaking. At the same time, prayer and the sacraments lead - must lead - to living the corporal and spiritual works of mercy, which are "the Christian's way of life", beginning in the context of ordinary life, of the family, of work, of social relationships.

This is, Francis observes, an "incarnate faith," as flesh became God in Jesus for us and was wounded for us. This is how, in a certain sense, we Christians continue to "write the Gospel" with our lives (cf. Homily on Mercy Sunday, April 3, 2016).

The Pope evokes the Eastern icon of Easter. It depicts Christ descending into "hell" (the place where, according to ancient tradition, the righteous were waiting) to rescue them. This contrasts with the fear of the disciples, who had the doors closed, as is also perhaps our status of defensive accommodation. Thus Francis says:

"Christ, who through love entered through the closed doors of sin, death and hell, desires to enter each one of us to open wide the closed doors of the heart. He, who by his resurrection overcame the fear and dread that imprison us, wants to open our closed doors and send us out" (Ibid.).

Following Christ, every Christian is an apostle, which means sent to heal so many wounds. "Many people ask to be heard and understood. The Gospel of mercy, which must be proclaimed and written with one's own life, seeks people with patient and open hearts, 'good Samaritans' who know compassion and silence before the mystery of the brother and sister; it asks for generous and joyful servants, who love gratuitously, without expecting anything in return" (Ibid.).

Mercy, as the principal manifestation of charity, is an equally essential dimension of faith and hope, and belongs to the core of the Gospel that we are to live. And for this the Pope gives us an accurate committee : union with the Holy Spirit, who is the love and mercy of God that is communicated to our hearts. It is up to us to be docile to him and not to put obstacles (especially through sin) to his action, to his grace.

"Let us ask - Francis encourages us - for the grace to never tire of feeling the mercy of the Father and of bringing it to the world: let us ask to be merciful ourselves, to spread everywhere the power of the Gospel, to write those pages of the Gospel that the Apostle John did not write" (Ibid.).

Perhaps we thought until now that the works of mercy were like a "something more" in the Christian faith, like a nice colophon, perhaps a little accidental, or only for some cases. But no. The works of mercy express higher forms of love of neighbor. And they are essential to the life of faith, which must be merciful.