The cameras capture a little a little girl prostrating at his feet sobbing uncontrollably – her mother next her also very moved. Several children offer him their drawings. He tells them he will place these precious little bits of art by his desk. I cannot even begin to imagine their plight or the utter desperation that would cause a family to travel across borders and even contemplate crossing dangerous seas. These are people are broken. What if that was me? How would I even begin to cope?

The Pope said that these people in Lesbos and elsewhere require us to look them in the face.

Life in the resurrection is life in hope. Not vain hope or sentiment but a fulsome vision of what we are meant to be as human beings to each other. It is a vision that death cannot conquer or human sin, greed, hate and tyranny defeat. It is good verses evil with the powers of darkness never overwhelming.

Life in the resurrection can be a stranger who talks to us on the road less travelled. Just like those disciples. Maybe at the time we are too distraught, our eyes too welled with tears, to recognise Him. To see the marks and scars in his hands. And when the bread is broken – then we see him. When he eyeballs us then we see him. “Did not our hearts warm as he spoke to us.”

The Pope concluded his visit by a surprising action. He took that little girl and her family and three other families on to his plane. They were (are) to be his guests at the Vatican. (There are already some migrant families living in the Vatican city.) This has been a long time needed for this kind of global religious leadership. Resurrection life indeed!