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Dear brothers and sisters, Happy Sunday!

Today the Church celebrates the Feast of the Exultation of the Holy Cross, commemorating the discovery of the Cross by Saint Helen in Jerusalem in the fourth century, and the return of the precious relic to the Holy City by the Emperor Heraclius.

But what does celebrating this feast mean for us today? The Gospel reading that the liturgy places before us (cf. Jn 3:13-17) helps us to understand it. The scene unfolds at night: Nicodemus, one of the leaders of the Jews, a righteous and open-minded person (cf. Jn 7:50-51), comes to meet Jesus. He needs light and guidance: he seeks God and asks the Teacher of Nazareth for help because he recognizes him as a prophet, a man who performs extraordinary signs.

The Lord welcomes him, listens to him, and eventually reveals to him that the Son of Man must be lifted up, “so that whoever believes in him may have eternal life” (Jn 3:15), adding: “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him might not perish but might have eternal life” (v. 16). Nicodemus, who perhaps does not fully comprehend the meaning of these words in the moment, will certainly do so when he helps to bury the Savior’s body after the crucifixion (cf. Jn 19:39). It is then that he will understand that God, in order to redeem humanity, became man and died on the cross. 

Jesus speaks of this to Nicodemus, recalling an episode in the Old Testament, when the Israelites were bitten by venomous snakes in the desert and were healed by looking upon the bronze serpent that Moses had fashioned and mounted on a pole in obedience to God’s command (cf. Num 21:4-9).

God saves us by showing himself to us, offering himself as our companion, teacher, doctor, friend, to the point of becoming bread broken for us in the Eucharist. In order to accomplish this task, he used one of the cruelest instruments that human beings have ever invented: the cross.

That is why today we celebrate the “exultation”: for the immense love with which God has transformed the means to death into an instrument of life, embracing it for our salvation, teaching us that nothing can separate us from him (cf. Rom 8:35-39) and that his love is greater than our own sin (cf. Francis, Catechesis, 30 March 2016).

Let us then ask, through the intercession of Mary, the Mother who was present at Calvary near her Son, that the saving love of her Son may take root in us and grow, and that we too may know how to give ourselves to each other, as he gave himself completely to all.

Dear brothers and sisters!

Tomorrow marks the 60th anniversary of the establishment of the Synod of Bishops, a prophetic intuition desired by Saint Paul VI so that Bishops might increase and improve their exercise of communion with the Successor of Peter. It is my hope that this anniversary will inspire a renewed commitment to the unity and mission of the Church. *synodality

Dear friends, it seems that you know that today I turn seventy years old. I give thanks to the Lord and to my parents; and I thank all those who have remembered me in their prayers. Many thanks to everyone! Thank you! Have a good Sunday!

14.09.25 a

Dear brothers and sisters,

Good morning, and thank you for your presence: a beautiful witness!

Today we will contemplate the culmination of Jesus’ life in this world: his death on the cross. The Gospels attest to a very precious detail, which is worthy of contemplation with the intelligence of faith. On the cross, Jesus does not die in silence. He does not fade away gradually, like a light that burns out, but rather he leaves life with a cry: “Jesus uttered a loud cry, and breathed his last” (Mk 15:37). That cry contains everything: pain, abandonment, faith, offering. It is not only the voice of a body giving way, but the final sign of a life being surrendered.

The cry of Jesus is preceded by a question, one of the most heart-rending that could be uttered: “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?”. It is the first verse of Psalm 22, but on Jesus’ lips it assumes a singular weight. The Son, who always lived in intimate communion with the Father, now experiences silence, absence, the abyss. It is not a crisis of faith, but the final stage of a love that is given up to the very end. Jesus’ cry is not desperation, but sincerity, truth taken to the limit, trust that endures even when all is silent.

At that moment, the sky darkens and the veil of the temple is torn (cf. Mk 15:33,38). As is as if creation itself was participating in that pain, and at the same time revealing something new. God no longer dwells behind a veil – his face is now fully visible in the Crucified One. It is there, in that broken man, that the greatest love manifests itself. It is there that we can recognize a God who does not remain distant, but who traverses our pain to the very end.

The centurion, a pagan, understands this. Not because he has listened to a speech, but because he saw Jesus die in that way: “Truly this man was the Son of God!” (Mk 15:39). It is the first confession of faith after the death of Jesus. It is the fruit of a cry that did not vanish in the wind, but touched a heart. At times, what we are unable to say in words, we express with the voice. When the heart is full, it cries. And this is not always a sign of weakness; it can be a profound act of humanity.

We are accustomed to thinking of crying out as something disorderly, to be repressed. The Gospel confers an immense value to our cry, reminding us that it can be an invocation, a protest, a desire, a surrender. It can even be the extreme form of prayer, when there are no words left. In that cry, Jesus gave all that he had left: all his love, all his hope.

Yes, because there is this too, in crying out: a hope that is not resigned. One cries out when one believes that someone can still hear. One cries not out of desperation, but out of desire. Jesus did not cry out against the Father, but to him. Even in silence, he was convinced that the Father was there. And, in this way, he showed us that our hope can cry out, even when all seems lost.

To cry out therefore becomes a spiritual gesture. It is not only the first act of our birth, when we come into the world crying: it is also a way of staying alive. One cries when one suffers, but also when one loves, one calls, one invokes. To cry out is saying who we are, that we do not want to fade away in silence, that we still have something to offer.

In the journey of life, there are moments in which keeping something inside can slowly consume us. Jesus teaches us not to be afraid to cry out, as long as it is sincere, humble, addressed to the Father. A cry is never pointless, if it is born of love. And it is never ignored, if it is delivered to God. It is a way to not give in to cynicism, to continue to believe that another world is possible.

Dear brothers and sisters, let us learn this too from the Lord Jesus: let us learn the cry of hope when the hour of extreme trial comes. Not to hurt, but to entrust ourselves. Not to shout at someone, but to open our hearts. If our cry is genuine, it can be the threshold of a new light, of a new birth. As with Jesus: when everything seemed to be over, in reality salvation was about to begin. If it is made manifest with the trust and freedom of the children of God, the suffering voice of our humanity, united with the voice of Christ, can become a source of hope for us and for those around us.

I am happy to welcome, this morning, the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors, especially those from England, Ireland, Scotland, Denmark, Malta, Norway, Uganda, India, Indonesia, Israel, Malaysia, Singapore, Canada, Dominica and the United States of America. With prayerful good wishes that the present Jubilee of Hope may be for you and your families a time of grace and spiritual renewal, I invoke upon you all the joy and the peace of Our Lord Jesus Christ.

Lastly, my thoughts turn to the young people, the sick and the newlyweds. I assure each one of you of my prayers: for you young people I ask the Lord for the gift of an ever more mature faith; for you sick, an ever stronger faith and for you newlyweds an ever deeper faith. My blessing to you all!

10.09.25

Dear brothers and sisters,

Before concluding this long-awaited celebration, I would like to greet and thank all of you who have come in such large numbers to celebrate these two new Saints!  I cordially greet the bishops and priests.  I respectfully welcome the official Delegations and distinguished civil Authorities.

In this atmosphere, it is marvellous to recall that yesterday the Church was also enriched by two new Blesseds.  In Tallinn, the capital of Estonia, Jesuit Archbishop Edoardo Profittlich was beatified.  He was killed in 1942 during the Soviet regime’s persecution of the Church.  In Verszprém, Hungary, the young laywoman Maria Maddalena Bódi was beatified.  She was killed in 1945 for resisting soldiers who intended to assault her.  Let us praise the Lord for these two martyrs, courageous witnesses to the beauty of the Gospel!

To the intercession of the Saints and the Virgin Mary, we entrust our unceasing prayer for peace, especially in the Holy Land and Ukraine, and in every other land blood-stained by war.  To those in power, I repeat: listen to the voice of conscience!  The apparent victories achieved with weapons, which sow death and destruction, are in reality defeats and never bring peace or security!  God does not want war, he wants peace, and he strengthens those who are committed to leaving behind the spiral of hatred and taking the path of dialogue.

07.09.25 a

Dear brothers and sisters,

In the first reading, we heard a question: [Lord,] “who has learned your counsel, unless you have given wisdom and sent your holy spirit from on high?” (Wis 9:17).  This question comes after two young Blesseds, Pier Giorgio Frassati and Carlo Acutis, were proclaimed saints, and this is providential because in the Book of Wisdom, this question is attributed to a young man like them: King Solomon.  Upon the death of his father David, he realized that he had many things: power, wealth, health, youth, beauty, and the entire kingdom.  It was precisely this great abundance of resources that raised a question in his heart: “What must I do so that nothing is lost?”  Solomon understood that the only way to find an answer was to ask God for an even greater gift, that of his wisdom, so that he might know God’s plans and follow them faithfully.  He realized, in fact, that only in this way would everything find its place in the Lord’s great plan.  Yes, because the greatest risk in life is to waste it outside of God’s plan.

Jesus, too, in the Gospel, speaks to us of a plan to which we must commit wholeheartedly.  He says: “Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple” (Lk 14:27); and again: “none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions” (v. 33).  He calls us to abandon ourselves without hesitation to the adventure that he offers us, with the intelligence and strength that comes from his Spirit, that we can receive to the extent that we empty ourselves of the things and ideas to which we are attached, in order to listen to his word.

Many young people, over the centuries, have had to face this crossroad in their lives.  Think of Saint Francis of Assisi, like Solomon, he too was young and rich, thirsty for glory and fame.  That is why he went to war, hoping to be knighted and adorned with honors.  But Jesus appeared to him along the way and asked him to reflect on what he was doing.  Coming to his senses, he asked God a simple question: “Lord, what do you want me to do?” (Legend of the Three Companions, cap. II: Fonti Francescane, 1401). From there, he changed his life and began to write a different story: the wonderful story of holiness that we all know, stripping himself of everything to follow the Lord (cf. Lk 14:33), living in poverty and preferring the love of his brothers and sisters, especially the weakest and smallest, to his father’s gold, silver and precious fabrics.

How many similar saints we could recall!  Sometimes we portray them as great figures, forgetting that for them it all began when, while still young, they said “yes” to God and gave themselves to him completely, keeping nothing for themselves.  Saint Augustine recounts that, in the “tortuous and tangled knot” of his life, a voice deep within him said: “I want you” (Confessions, II, 10,18). God gave him a new direction, a new path, a new reason, in which nothing of his life was lost.

In this setting, today we look to Saint Pier Giorgio Frassati and Saint Carlo Acutis: a young man from the early 20th century and a teenager from our own day, both in love with Jesus and ready to give everything for him.

Pier Giorgio encountered the Lord through school and church groups — Catholic Action, the Conferences of Saint Vincent, the FUCI (Italian Catholic University Federation), the Dominican Third Order — and he bore witness to God with his joy of living and of being a Christian in prayer, friendship and charity.  This was so evident that seeing him walking the streets of Turin with carts full of supplies for the poor, his friends renamed him “Frassati Impresa Trasporti” (Frassati Transport Company)! Even today, Pier Giorgio’s life is a beacon for lay spirituality.  For him, faith was not a private devotion, but it was driven by the power of the Gospel and his membership in ecclesial associations.  He was also generously committed to society, contributed to political life and devoted himself ardently to the service of the poor.

Carlo, for his part, encountered Jesus in his family, thanks to his parents, Andrea and Antonia — who are here today with his two siblings, Francesca and Michele — and then at school, and above all in the sacraments celebrated in the parish community.  He grew up naturally integrating prayer, sport, study and charity into his days as a child and young man.

Both Pier Giorgio and Carlo cultivated their love for God and for their brothers and sisters through simple acts, available to everyone: daily Mass, prayer, and especially Eucharistic Adoration.  Carlo used to say: “In front of the sun, you get a tan. In front of the Eucharist, you become a saint!”  And again: “Sadness is looking at yourself; happiness is looking at God.  Conversion is nothing more than shifting your gaze from below to above; a simple movement of the eyes is enough.”  Another essential practice for them was frequent Confession.  Carlo wrote: “The only thing we really have to fear is sin;” and he marveled because — in his own words — “people are so concerned with the beauty of their bodies and do not care about the beauty of their souls.” Finally, both had a great devotion to the saints and to the Virgin Mary, and they practiced charity generously.  Pier Giorgio said: “Around the poor and the sick, I see a light that we do not have” (Nicola Gori, Al prezzo della vita: L’Osservatore romano, 11 February 2021).  He called charity “the foundation of our religion” and, like Carlo, he practiced it above all through small, concrete gestures, often hidden, living what Pope Francis called “a holiness found in our next-door neighbors” (Apostolic Exhortation Gaudete et Exsultate, 7).

Even when illness struck them and cut short their young lives, not even this stopped them nor prevented them from loving, offering themselves to God, blessing him and praying to him for themselves and for everyone.  One day Pier Giorgio said: “The day of my death will be the most beautiful day of my life” (Irene Funghi, I giovani assieme a Frassati: un compagno nei nostri cammini tortuosi: Avvenire, 2 agosto 2025).  In his last photo, which shows him climbing a mountain in the Val di Lanzo, with his face turned towards his goal, he wrote: “Upwards” (Ibid).  Moreover, Carlo, who was even younger than Pier Giorgio, loved to say that heaven has always been waiting for us, and that to love tomorrow is to give the best of our fruit today.

Dear friends, Saints Pier Giorgio Frassati and Carlo Acutis are an invitation to all of us, especially young people, not to squander our lives, but to direct them upwards and make them masterpieces.  They encourage us with their words: “Not I, but God,” as Carlo used to say. And Pier Giorgio: “If you have God at the center of all your actions, then you will reach the end.”  This is the simple but winning formula of their holiness.  It is also the type of witness we are called to follow, in order to enjoy life to the full and meet the Lord in the feast of heaven.

07.09.25 m

Dear brothers and sisters,

At the heart of the account of the Passion, in the most luminous and at the same time darkest moment of Jesus’ life, the Gospel of John gives us two words that contain an immense mystery: “I thirst” (19:28), and immediately afterwards: “It is finished” (19:30). These are his last words, but they are filled with a whole lifetime, revealing the meaning of the entire existence of the Son of God. On the cross, Jesus does not appear as a victorious hero, but as a supplicant for love. He does not proclaim, condemn or defend himself. He humbly asks for what he, alone, cannot give to himself in any way.

The thirst of the Crucified Lord is not only the physiological need of a tortured body. It is also, and above all, the expression of a profound desire: that of love, of relationship, of communion. It is the silent cry of a God who, having wished to share everything of our human condition, also lets himself be overcome by this thirst. A God who is not ashamed to beg for a sip, because in that gesture he tells us that love, in order to be true, must also learn to ask and not only to give.

I thirst, says Jesus, and in this way he manifests his humanity and also ours. None of us can be self-sufficient. No-one can save themselves. Life is “fulfilled” not when we are strong, but when we learn how to receive. It is precisely at that moment, after receiving from unknown hands a sponge soaked in vinegar, that Jesus proclaims: It is finished. Love has made itself needy, and precisely for this reason it has accomplished its work.

This is the Christian paradox: God saves not by doing, but by letting himself do. Not by defeating evil with force, but by accepting the weakness of love to the very end. On the cross, Jesus teaches us that man does not realize himself in power, but in trustful openness to others, even when they are hostile and enemies. Salvation is not found in autonomy, but in humbly recognizing one’s own need and in being able to express it freely.

The fulfilment of our humanity in God’s plan is not an act of strength, but a gesture of trust. Jesus does not save with a dramatic twist, but by asking for something that he cannot give himself. And it is here that the door to true hope opens: if even the Son of God chose not to be self-sufficient, then our thirst too – for love, for meaning, for justice – is a sign not of failure, but of truth.

This truth, seemingly so simple, is difficult to accept. We live in a time that rewards self-sufficiency, efficiency, performance. And yet the Gospel shows us that the measure of our humanity is not given by what we can achieve, but by our ability to let ourselves be loved and, when necessary, even helped.

Jesus saves us by showing us that asking is not unworthy, but liberating. It is the way out of the hiddenness of sin, so as to re-enter the space of communion. Ever since the beginning, sin has begotten shame. But forgiveness – real forgiveness – is born when we can face up to our need and no longer fear rejection.

Jesus’ thirst on the cross is therefore ours too. It is the cry of a wounded humanity that seeks living water. And this thirst does not lead us away from God, but rather unites us with him. If we have the courage to acknowledge it, we can discover that even our fragility is a bridge towards heaven. It is precisely in asking – not in possessing – that a way of freedom opens up, because we cease to pretend to be self-sufficient.

In fraternity, in the simple life, in the art of asking without shame and offering without ulterior motives, a joy is born that the world does not know. A joy that restores us to the original truth of our being: we are creatures made to give and receive love.

Dear brothers and sisters, in Christ’s thirst we can recognize all of our own thirst. And to learn that there is nothing more human, nothing more divine, than being able to say: I need. Let us not be afraid to ask, especially when it seems to us that we do not deserve. Let us not be ashamed to reach out our hand. It is right there, in that humble gesture, that salvation hides.

Dramatic news is coming from Sudan, in particular from Darfur. In El Fasher, many civilians have been trapped in the city, victims of famine and violence. In Tarasin, a devastating mudslide has claimed many lives, leaving pain and desperation in its wake. And, as if that were not enough, the spread of cholera is threatening hundreds of thousands of already stricken people. I am closer than ever to the Sudanese population, in particular families, children and the displaced. I pray for all the victims. I make a heartfelt appeal to leaders and to the international community to guarantee humanitarian corridors and implement a coordinated response to stop this humanitarian catastrophe. It is time to initiate a serious, sincere and inclusive dialogue between the parties to end the conflict and restore hope, dignity and peace to the people of Sudan.

I greet all the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors taking part in today’s Audience, particularly the groups from England, Scotland, Ireland, Northern Ireland, Austria, Denmark, Malta, the Netherlands, Switzerland, Cameroon, Australia, Hong Kong, Indonesia, Japan, the Philippines, Vietnam and the United States of America. 

I ask all of you to join me in praying for those affected by the recent mudslides in the Marra Mountains of Sudan.  Let us ask the Almighty to grant eternal peace to all who have died, as well as solace and strength to their loved ones.  Even in the midst of such tragedies may we never lose hope in God’s love for us.

Upon all of you and upon your families, I invoke the blessings of Almighty God.

Lastly, my thoughts turn to the young people, the sick and the newlyweds. Today we celebrate the liturgical memorial of St Gregory the Great, whose body rests in St Peter's Basilica. This Pope is called "the great" for his exceptional activity as pastor and teacher of faith in very difficult times for society and the Church: a "greatness" that drew strength from trust in Christ. I hope that each one of you will recognize in the Lord the only true force of existence.

My blessing to you all!

03.09.25

Dear brothers and sisters, happy Sunday!

In every culture, sitting at table together, especially on days of rest and celebration, is a sign of peace and communion. In this Sunday’s Gospel (Lk 14:1.7-14), Jesus is invited to a meal by one of the leaders of the Pharisees. Inviting others to one’s table is a sign of openness of heart, while accepting such an invitation entails having the humility to be open to others and their world. These gestures that bring people together help foster a culture of encounter.

Encounter is not always easy. The Evangelist notes that the other guests “observed” Jesus closely; indeed, he was watched with some suspicion by the stricter interpreters of tradition. Yet the encounter takes place because Jesus makes himself genuinely present; as a good guest, he acts with respect and sincerity, avoiding merely polite formalities that preclude authentic encounter. Consequently, as was his wont, he employs a parable to describe what he sees happening and invites those watching him to reflect on it. For he saw people rushing to sit in the places of honour, something that also happens today, not in families but on occasions when people consider it important to “be noticed”, whereby a moment for being together ends up as a competition.

Sisters and brothers, when we sit together at the table of the Eucharist on the Lord’s Day, we too should be willing to let Jesus speak. He becomes our guest and he can tell us how he sees us. It is very important that we see ourselves through his eyes: to see how frequently we reduce life to a competition, how anxious we become to obtain some sort of recognition, and how pointlessly we compare ourselves to others. Stopping to reflect, letting ourselves be taken aback by a word that challenges our hearts’ priorities, is to experience freedom, the freedom to which Jesus calls us.

In the Gospel, Jesus speaks of “humility” in describing perfect freedom (cf. Lk 14:11). Humility is really freedom from ourselves. It is born when the Kingdom of God and its righteousness become our real concern and we allow ourselves to lift up our eyes and look ahead: not down at our feet, but at what lies ahead! Those who exalt themselves generally think that nothing is more interesting than themselves; yet deep down, they are quite insecure. Whereas those who know that they are precious in God’s eyes, who know they are God’s children, have greater things to be worried about; they possess a sublime dignity all their own. Once we learn to take the last places, rather than striving for the first, that dignity will appear, and we will come to the fore simply and effortlessly.

Dear friends, today let us pray that the Church will always be a school of humility for everyone, a home where all are welcome, a place where rivalries are set aside and where Jesus still speaks to us and teaches us to imitate his own humility and freedom. Mary is truly the Mother of that home; it is to her that we now pray.

Dear brothers and sisters,

Sadly, the war in Ukraine continues to sow death and destruction. Even in recent days, bombings have struck several cities, including the capital Kyiv, causing numerous casualties. I renew my closeness to the Ukrainian people and to all the injured families. I ask everyone not to give in to indifference, but to draw close to them through prayer and concrete gestures of charity. I strongly reiterate my urgent appeal for an immediate ceasefire and a serious commitment to dialogue. Now is the time for those responsible to renounce the logic of weapons and take the path of negotiation and peace, with the support of the international community. The voice of weapons must be silenced, while the voice of fraternity and justice must be raised.

Our prayers for the victims of the tragic shooting during a school Mass in the American State of Minnesota include the countless children killed and injured every day around the world. Let us plead God to stop the pandemic of arms, large and small, which infects our world. May our Mother Mary, the Queen of Peace, help us to fulfil the prophecy of Isaiah: “They shall beat their swords into ploughshares and their spears into pruning hooks” (Is 2:4).

Our hearts are also wounded by the more than fifty people who died and the one hundred or so still missing following the shipwreck of a boat carrying migrants attempting the 1100 km journey towards the Canary Islands, that capsized off the Atlantic coast of Mauritania. This deadly tragedy is repeated every day all over the world. Let us pray that the Lord will teach us, as individuals and societies, fully to put into practice his words: “I was a stranger and you welcomed me” (Mt 25:35).

We entrust all our injured, missing and dead, everywhere, to our Savior’s loving embrace.

Tomorrow, 1 September, is the World Day of Prayer for the Care of Creation. Ten years ago, in harmony with Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew I, Pope Francis established this Day for the Catholic Church. This is more important and urgent than ever, and this year’s theme is “Seeds of Peace and Hope.” Together with all Christians, we celebrate it throughout this “Season of Creation”, which lasts until 4 October, the Feast of Saint Francis of Assisi. In the spirit of the Canticle of Brother Sun, which he composed 800 years ago, we praise God and renew our commitment not to ruin his gift but to care for our common home.

I wish all of you a happy Sunday!

31.08.25

Dear brothers and sisters ,

Today we focus on a scene that marks the beginning of Jesus' Passion: the moment of his arrest in the Garden of Olives. The evangelist John, with his usual depth, does not present a frightened Jesus, fleeing or hiding. Instead, he shows us a free man, who steps forward and speaks, facing head-on the hour when the light of the greatest love can be revealed.

"Jesus, knowing all that was going to happen to him, went forward and said to them, 'Whom are you looking for?'" ( Jn 18:4). Jesus knows. However, he decides not to retreat. He surrenders. Not out of weakness, but out of love. A love so full, so mature, that it does not fear rejection. Jesus is not taken: he lets himself be taken. He is not the victim of an arrest, but the author of a gift. This gesture embodies a hope of salvation for our humanity: knowing that, even in the darkest hour, we can remain free to love to the end.

When Jesus answers, "I am he," the soldiers fall to the ground. This is a mysterious passage, since this expression, in biblical revelation, recalls the very name of God: "I am." Jesus reveals that God's presence manifests itself precisely where humanity experiences injustice, fear, and loneliness. Precisely there, the true light is willing to shine without fear of being overwhelmed by the advancing darkness.

In the dead of night, when everything seems to be falling apart, Jesus shows that Christian hope is not evasion, but determination. This attitude is the fruit of a profound prayer in which we ask God not to be spared from suffering, but to have the strength to persevere in love, knowing that life freely offered for love cannot be taken from us by anyone.

"If you seek me, let these men go their way" ( John 18:8). At the moment of his arrest, Jesus isn't concerned with saving himself: he only wants his friends to be free. This shows that his sacrifice is a true act of love. Jesus allows himself to be captured and imprisoned by the guards only so that they can set his disciples free.

Jesus lived every day of his life as preparation for this dramatic and sublime hour. Therefore, when it arrives, he has the strength not to seek escape. His heart knows well that losing one's life for love is not a failure, but possesses a mysterious fruitfulness. Like the grain of wheat that, falling to the ground, is not left alone, but dies and becomes fruitful.

Even Jesus is troubled by a path that seems to lead only to death and the end. But he is equally convinced that only a life lost for love is ultimately found. This is where true hope lies: not in trying to avoid pain, but in believing that, even in the heart of the most unjust suffering, lies the seed of a new life.

And what about us? How often do we defend our lives, our plans, our certainties, without realizing that, in doing so, we remain alone. The logic of the Gospel is different: only what is given flourishes, only love that becomes gratuitous can restore faith even where all seems lost.

The Gospel of Mark also tells us of a young man who, when Jesus is arrested, runs away naked ( Mark 14:51). It is an enigmatic but profoundly evocative image. We too, in attempting to follow Jesus, experience moments when we are caught off guard and stripped of our certainties. These are the most difficult moments, when we are tempted to abandon the path of the Gospel because love seems an impossible journey. Yet, it is precisely a young man, at the end of the Gospel, who announces the resurrection to the women, no longer naked, but dressed in a white robe.

This is the hope of our faith: our sins and our hesitations do not prevent God from forgiving us and restoring in us the desire to resume our following, to enable us to give our lives for others.

Dear brothers and sisters, let us too learn to surrender ourselves to the good will of the Father, allowing our lives  be a response to the good we have received. Life doesn't need to have everything under control. It's enough to choose to love freely every day. This is true hope: knowing that, even in the darkness of trial, God's love sustains us and allows the fruit of eternal life to mature within us.

Last Friday, we accompanied our brothers and sisters suffering because of war with prayer and fasting . Today, I return to make a strong appeal to both the parties involved and the international community to end the conflict in the Holy Land, which has caused so much terror, destruction, and death.

I implore that all hostages be released, a permanent ceasefire be reached, the safe entry of humanitarian aid be facilitated, and humanitarian law be fully respected, in particular the obligation to protect civilians and the prohibitions on collective punishment, the indiscriminate use of force, and the forced displacement of populations. I join in the Joint Declaration of the Greek Orthodox and Latin Patriarchs of Jerusalem , who yesterday called for "an end to this spiral of violence, an end to the war, and a priority for the common good of the people."

Let us implore Mary, Queen of Peace, source of consolation and hope: may her intercession obtain reconciliation and peace in that land so dear to all!

I am happy to welcome, this morning, the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors, especially those from England, Ireland, Scotland, Malta, South Africa, Indonesia, Taiwan, Timor-Leste, Vietnam, Canada and the United States of America.  With prayerful good wishes that the present Jubilee of Hope may be for you and your families a time of grace and spiritual renewal, I invoke upon you all the joy and the peace of Our Lord Jesus Christ.

Finally, my thoughts turn to the young people, the sick, and newlyweds. Look with indomitable trust to Christ, light in difficulties, support in trials, and guide in every moment of human existence.

My blessing to everyone!

27.08.25

Dear brothers and sisters, happy Sunday!

At the heart of today’s Gospel (Lk 13:22-30), we find the image of the “narrow gate,” which Jesus uses in his answer to someone who asks him if only a few will be saved. Jesus says, “Strive to enter through the narrow gate, for many, I tell you, will try to enter and will not be able” (v 24).

At first glance, this image can make us think: if God is the Father of love and mercy, who always stands with open arms to welcome us, why does Jesus say that the gate of salvation is narrow?

Certainly, the Lord does not want to discourage us. Rather, his words are meant primarily to challenge the presumption of those people who think they are already saved, who perform religious acts and feel that is all that is needed.  They have not realized that it is not enough to perform religious acts unless they change hearts. The Lord does not want worship detached from life. He is not pleased with sacrifices and prayers, unless they lead to greater love for others and justice for our brothers and sisters. For this reason, when such people come before the Lord boasting that they ate and drank with him and heard him teaching in their streets, they will hear him reply: “I do not know where you come from; go away from me, all you evildoers!” (v 28).

Brothers and sisters, the challenge presented to us in today’s Gospel is worth considering. While we may sometimes be judgmental towards those distant from the faith, Jesus calls into question “the security of believers.” He tells us that it is not enough to profess the faith with words, to eat and drink with him by celebrating the Eucharist or to have a good knowledge of Christian doctrine.  Our faith is authentic when it embraces our whole life, when it becomes a criterion for our decisions, when it makes us women and men committed to doing what is right and who take risks out of love, even as Jesus did. He did not choose the easy path of success or power; instead, in order to save us, he loved us to the point of walking through the “narrow gate” of the Cross. Jesus is the true measure of our faith; he is the gate through which we must pass in order to be saved (cf. Jn 10:9) by experiencing his love and by working, in our daily lives, to promote justice and peace.

There are times when this involves making difficult and unpopular decisions, resisting our selfish inclinations, placing ourselves at the service of others, and persevering in doing what is right when the logic of evil seems to prevail, and so on. Once we cross that threshold, however, we will discover that life flourishes anew. From that moment on, we will enter into the immense heart of God and the joy of the eternal banquet that he has prepared for us.

Let us ask the Virgin Mary to help us find the courage to pass through the “narrow gate” of the Gospel, so that we may open ourselves with joy to the wide embrace of God our loving Father.

Dear brothers and sisters,

I express my closeness to the people of Cabo Delgado, Mozambique, who have become victims of an unsecure and violent situation that continues to cause death and displacement. In asking you not to forget these brothers and sisters of ours, I invite you to pray for them, and I express my hope that the efforts of the country’s leaders will succeed in restoring security and peace in that territory.

This past Friday, 22 August, we accompanied with our prayers and fasting our brothers and sisters who are suffering because of wars. Today, we join our Ukrainian brothers and sisters who, with the spiritual initiative “World Prayer for Ukraine,” are asking the Lord to grant peace to their tormented country.

I greet all of you, the faithful of Rome and pilgrims from various countries, especially those from Karaganda (Kazakhstan), Budapest and the seminarians and faculty of the Pontifical North American College. I am pleased to welcome the Gozzano Music Band and the parish groups from Bellagio, Vidigulfo, Carbonia, Corlo and Val Cavallina. I also greet the faithful who have come by bicycle from Rovato and Manerbio, and the itinerate Via Lucis group.

I wish everyone a happy Sunday.

24.08.25

Dear brothers and sisters,

Today we will look at one of the most striking and luminous gestures in the Gospel: the moment when Jesus, during the last supper, offers a morsel to the one who is about to betray him. It is not only a gesture of sharing: it is much more; it is love’s last attempt not to give up.

Saint John, with his profound spiritual sensibility, tells us about this moment as follows: [During supper, when] “the devil had already induced Judas, son of Simon the Iscariot, to hand him over… Jesus knew that his hour had come to pass …  he loved them to the end” (Jn 13:1-2). To love until the end: here is the key to understanding Christ’s heart. A love that does not cease in the face of rejection, disappointment, even ingratitude.

Jesus knows the time, but he does not submit to it: he chooses it. It is he who recognizes the moment in which his love must pass through the most painful wound, that of betrayal. And instead of withdrawing, accusing, defending himself… he continues to love: he washes the feet, dips the bread and offers it.

“It is the one to whom I hand the morsel after I have dipped it” (Jn 13:26). With this simple and humble gesture, Jesus carries his love forward and to its depths, not because he is ignoring what is happening, but precisely because he sees it clearly. He has understood that the freedom of the other, even when it is lost in evil, can still be reached by the light of a meek gesture, because he knows that true forgiveness does not await repentance, but offers itself first, as a free gift, even before it is accepted.

Judas, unfortunately, does not understand. After the morsel – says the Gospel – “Satan entered him” (v. 27). This passage strikes us: as if evil, hidden until then, manifested itself after love showed its most defenceless face. And precisely for this reason, brothers and sisters, that morsel is our salvation: because it tells us that God does everything – absolutely everything – to reach us, even in the hour when we reject him.

It is here that forgiveness reveals all its power and manifests the true face of hope. It is not forgetfulness; it is not weakness. It is the ability to set the other free, while loving him to the end. Jesus’ love does not deny the truth of pain, but it does not allow evil to have the last word. This is the mystery Jesus accomplishes for us, in which we too, at times, are called to participate.

How many relationships are broken, how many stories become complicated, how many unspoken words remain suspended. And yet the Gospel shows us that there is always a way to continue to love, even when everything seems irredeemably compromised. To forgive does not mean to deny evil, but to prevent it from generating further evil. It is not to say that nothing has happened, but to do everything possible to ensure that resentment does not determine the future.

When Judas leaves the room, “it was night” (v. 30). But immediately afterwards, Jesus says, “Now is the Son of Man glorified” (v. 31). The night is still there, but a light has already begun to shine. And it shines because Christ remains faithful to the end, and so his love is stronger than hatred.

Dear brothers and sisters, we too experience painful and difficult nights. Nights of the soul, nights of disappointment, nights in which someone has hurt or betrayed us. In those moments, the temptation is to close ourselves up, to protect ourselves, to return the blow. But the Lord shows us the hope that that another way exists, always exists. He teaches us that one can offer a morsel even to someone who turns their back on us. That one can respond with the silence of trust. And that we can move forward with dignity, without renouncing love.

Let us ask today for the grace to be able to forgive, even when we do not feel understood, even when we feel abandoned. Because it is precisely in those hours that love can reach its pinnacle. As Jesus teaches us, to love means to leave the other free — even to betray — without ever ceasing to believe that even that freedom, wounded and lost, can be snatched from the deception of darkness and returned to the light of goodness.

When the light of forgiveness succeeds in filtering through the deepest crevices of the heart, we understand that it is never futile. Even if the other does not accept it, even if it seems to be in vain, forgiveness frees those who give it: it dispels resentment, it restores peace, it returns us to ourselves.

Jesus, with the simple gesture of offering bread, shows that every betrayal can become an opportunity for salvation, if it is chosen as a space for a greater love. It does not give in to evil, but conquers it with good, preventing it from extinguishing what is truest in us: the capacity to love.

Next Friday, 22 August, we will celebrate the memorial of Queenship of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Mary is the Mother of believers here on earth, and is also invoked as Queen of Peace, while our earth continues to be wounded by wars in the Holy Land, in Ukraine, and in many other regions of the world.

I invite all the faithful to devote the day of 22 August to fasting and prayer, imploring the Lord to grant us peace and justice, and to dry the tears of those who suffer as a result of the ongoing armed conflicts. Mary, Queen of Peace, intercede so that peoples may find the path to peace.

I greet all the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors taking part in today’s Audience, particularly the groups from England, Finland, Malta, Senegal, Australia, Japan, South Korea, Vietnam and the United States of America. I pray that this Jubilee of Hope will be a time of healing and spiritual renewal for all men and women everywhere. Upon you and your families, I invoke God’s strength, love and peace. God bless you.

21.08.25

Dear brothers and sisters, happy Sunday!

Today’s Gospel presents us with a demanding text (cf. Lk 12:49-53), in which Jesus uses strong images and great frankness to teach his disciples that his mission, and even that of his followers, is not a “bed of roses”, but a “sign of contradiction” (cf. Lk 2:34).

In this way, the Lord anticipates what he will have to face in Jerusalem when he will be opposed, arrested, insulted, beaten, crucified; when his message of love and justice will be rejected; when the leaders of the people will react with viciousness at his preaching. Moreover, many of the communities to which the evangelist Luke was writing were also experiencing the same thing. As the Acts of the Apostles tells us, they were peaceful communities that, despite their own limitations, sought to live the best they could the Master’s message of love (cf. Acts 4:32-33). Yet they were suffering persecutions.

All of this reminds us that being or doing good does not always receive a positive response. On the contrary, because its beauty at times annoys those who do not welcome it, one can end up encountering harsh opposition, even insolence and oppression. Acting in truth has its cost, because there are those in the world who choose lies, and the devil, who takes advantage of the situation, often seeks to block the actions of good people.

Jesus, however, invites us with his help not to give in and conform ourselves to this mentality, but to continue to act for our good and the good of all, even those who make us suffer. He invites us not to respond to insolence with vengeance, but to remain faithful to the truth in love. The martyrs witnessed to this by shedding their blood for their faith. We, too, can imitate their example even in different circumstances and ways.

Let us think, for example, of the price that good parents must pay if they want to educate their children according to sound principles. Eventually they will have to say “no” and correct their children; this will cause them pain. The same is true for a teacher who desires to form students properly, or for a professional, religious, or politician, who desires to carry out their mission honestly. It is true for anyone who strives to exercise his or her responsibilities consistently according to the teachings of the Gospel.

In this regard, Saint Ignatius of Antioch, while travelling toward Rome to undergo martyrdom, wrote to the Christians of that city: “I do not want you to please men, but to please God” (Letter to the Romans 2:1). He added, “It is better for me to die in Jesus Christ than reign over the ends of the earth” (ibid., 6:1).

Brothers and sisters, let us together ask Mary, Queen of Martyrs, to help us be faithful and courageous witnesses of her Son in every circumstance, and to sustain our brothers and sisters who suffer for the faith today.

Dear brothers and sisters,

I am close to the peoples of Pakistan, India, and Nepal who have been struck by violent floods. I pray for the victims, for their families, and for all those who suffer because of this calamity.

Let us pray that efforts to bring wars to an end and to promote peace may bear fruit, and that in negotiations the common good of peoples may always be placed first.

In this summer season, I have received news of many different initiatives of cultural outreach and evangelization, often organized in holiday destinations. It is beautiful to see how zeal for the Gospel inspires the creativity and commitment of groups and associations of all ages. For example, I think of the youth mission that took place recently in Riccione. I thank the organizers and everyone who in various ways participated in such events.

I greet with affection all of you present here today in Castel Gandolfo.

In particular, I am pleased to welcome the AIDO group of Coccaglio, celebrating fifty years of commitment to life; the AVIS blood donors who came by bicycle from Gavardo (Brescia); the young people of Casarano; and the Franciscan Sisters of Saint Anthony.

I also bless the great pilgrimage to the Marian Shrine of Piekary in Poland.

I wish you all a blessed Sunday!

17.08.25 a

Dear brothers and sisters, happy feast day!

The Fathers of the Second Vatican Council left us a marvellous text on the Virgin Mary, a part of which I would like to read to you today as we celebrate the Solemnity of her Assumption to the glory of heaven. At the end of the document on the Church, the Council says: “the Mother of Jesus in the glory which she possesses in body and soul in heaven is the image and beginning of the church as it is to be perfected in the world to come. Likewise, she shines forth on earth, until the day of the Lord shall come (cf. 2 Pt 3:10), a sign of certain hope and comfort to the pilgrim people of God” (Dogmatic Constitution on the Church Lumen Gentium, 68).

Mary, who the risen Christ carried body and soul into the glory, shines as an icon of hope for her pilgrim children throughout history.

How can we not think of Dante’s verses in the last canto of the Paradiso? Through the prayer put on Saint Bernard’s lips, which begins “Virgin Mother, daughter of thy Son” (XXXIII, 1), the poet lauds Mary because here among us mortals she is “the living fountain-head of hope” (ibid., 12), that is the living spring, gushing with hope.

Sisters and brothers, this truth of our faith is perfectly in line with the theme of the present Jubilee: “Pilgrims of hope.” Pilgrims need a goal that orients their journey: a beautiful and attractive goal that guides their steps and revives them when they are tired, that always rekindles in their heart a desire and hope. On the path of life, our goal is God, infinite and eternal Love, fullness of life, peace, joy and every good thing. The human heart is drawn to such beauty and it is not happy until it finds it; and indeed it risks not finding it if it gets lost in the middle of the “dark forest” of evil and sin.

Let us consider this grace: God came to meet us, he assumed our flesh fashioned from the earth, and has carried it with him into the presence of God, or as we commonly say “into heaven.” It is the mystery of Jesus Christ, who became flesh, died and rose for our salvation. Inseparable from him, is also the mystery of Mary, the woman from whom the Son of God has taken flesh, and of the Church, the mystical body of Christ. It concerns a unique mystery of love, and thus of freedom. Just as Jesus said “yes,” so also Mary said “yes;” she believed in the word of the Lord. All of her life has been a pilgrimage of hope together with her son, the Son of God, a pilgrimage which, through the Cross and Resurrection, has reached the heavenly homeland, in the embrace of God.

For this reason, while we journey forward, as individuals, families and communities, especially when the clouds come and the road seems difficult and uncertain, let us lift our gaze, let us look at her, our Mother, and we will rediscover the hope that does not disappoint (cf. Rm 5:5).

Dear brothers and sisters,

Today we wish to entrust our prayer for peace to the intercession of the Virgin Mary, assumed into heaven. As a Mother, she suffers for the evils that afflict her children, especially the little ones and the weak. So many times throughout the centuries, she has confirmed this through messages and apparitions.

In proclaiming the dogma of the Assumption, while the tragic experience of the Second World War was still painfully present, Pius XII wrote, “We may hope that those who meditate upon the glorious example Mary offers us may be more and more convinced of the value of a human life.” He expressed the wish that never again might any ideology “ruin the lives of men by exciting discord among them” (Apostolic Constitution Munificentissimus Deus).

How timely these words remain! Even today, sadly, we feel powerless before the spread of violence in the world — a violence increasingly deaf and insensitive to any stirring of humanity. Yet we must not cease to hope: God is greater than the sin of human beings. We must not resign ourselves to the prevalence of the logic of conflict and of arms. With Mary, we believe that the Lord continues to come to the aid of his children, remembering his mercy. Only in this mercy can we return to the way of peace.

Now, I extend my greeting to you, pilgrims from Italy and from various countries.

I greet the university evangelization community from Honduras; the families of the Family Love Movement, who have just concluded their spiritual exercises; and the group of spouses and engaged couples, “Santa Rita.”

My best wishes and a joyful feast to all!

15.08.25 a

Dear brothers and sisters,

Today is not Sunday, yet we celebrate in another way the Paschal Mystery of Jesus, which changed the course of history. In Mary of Nazareth, we recognize our own history: the history of the Church, immersed in the common lot of humanity. By taking flesh in her, the God of life — the God of freedom — has conquered death. Yes, today we contemplate how God overcomes death — yet never without us. His is the Kingdom, but ours is the “yes” to his love that can change everything. On the Cross, Jesus freely uttered that “yes” which would strip death of its power — the death that still spreads wherever our hands crucify and our hearts remain imprisoned by fear and mistrust. On the Cross, trust prevailed; so did love, which sees what is yet to come; and forgiveness triumphed.

Mary was there, united with her Son. In our day, we are like Mary whenever we do not flee, whenever we make Jesus’ “yes” our own. That “yes” still lives and resists death in the martyrs of our time, in witnesses of faith and justice, of gentleness and peace. Thus this day of joy becomes also a day that calls us to choose – how and for whom we shall live.

The liturgy of this feast of the Assumption offers us the Gospel passage on the Visitation. Saint Luke recorded in this passage a decisive moment in Mary’s vocation. It is beautiful to recall that day, as we celebrate the crowning moment of her life. Every human story, even that of the Mother of God, is brief on this earth and comes to an end. Yet nothing is lost. When a life ends, its uniqueness shines even more clearly. The Magnificat, which the Gospel places on the lips of the young Mary, now radiates the light of all her days.  One single day — the day she met her cousin Elizabeth — contains the seed of every other day, of every other season. And words are not enough; a song is needed, one that continues to be sung in the Church “from generation to generation” (Lk 1:50), at the close of every day. The surprising fruitfulness of barren Elizabeth confirmed Mary in her trust; it anticipated the fruitfulness of her “yes,” which extends to the fruitfulness of the Church and of all humanity whenever God’s renewing Word is welcomed. That day, two women met in faith, then stayed together for three months to support each other, not just in practical matters but in a new way of reading history.

And so, dear brothers and sisters, the Resurrection enters our world even today.  The words and choices of death may seem to prevail, but the life of God breaks through our despair through concrete experiences of fraternity and new gestures of solidarity. Prior to being our final destiny, the Resurrection transforms — in soul and body — our dwelling on earth. Mary’s song, Magnificat, strengthens the hope of the humble, the hungry, the faithful servants of God.  These are the men and women of the Beatitudes who, even in tribulation, already see the invisible: the mighty cast down from their thrones, the rich sent away empty, the promises of God fulfilled. Such experiences should be found in every Christian community. They may seem impossible, but God’s Word continues to be brought to light. When bonds are born, with which we confront evil with good and death with life, we see that nothing is impossible with God (cf. Lk 1:37).

Sometimes, unfortunately, where human self-reliance prevails, where material comfort and a certain complacency dull the conscience, this faith can grow old.  Then death enters in the form of resignation and complaint, of nostalgia and fear. Instead of letting the old world pass away, one clings to it still, seeking the help of the rich and powerful, which often comes with contempt for the poor and lowly. The Church, however, lives in her fragile members, and she is renewed by their Magnificat. Even in our own day, the poor and persecuted Christian communities, the witnesses of tenderness and forgiveness in places of conflict, and the peacemakers and bridge-builders in a broken world, are the joy of the Church. They are her enduring fruitfulness, the first fruits of the Kingdom to come. Many of them are women, like the elderly Elizabeth and the young Mary — Paschal women, apostles of the Resurrection. Let us be converted by their witness!

Brothers and sisters, when in this life we “choose life” (Dt 30:19), we are right to see in Mary, assumed into heaven, our own destiny. She is given to us as the sign that the Resurrection of Jesus was no isolated event, no mere exception. In Christ, we, too, can “swallow up death” (cf. 1 Cor 15:54).  To be sure, it is God’s work, not ours. Yet Mary is that wondrous union of grace and freedom, which urges each of us to have trust, courage and participation in the life of God’s people. “He who is mighty has done great things for me” (Lk 1:49): may each of us know this joy and proclaim it with a new song. Let us not be afraid to choose life! It may seem risky and imprudent. Many voices whisper: “Why bother? Let it go. Think of your own interests.” These are voices of death. But we are disciples of Christ. It is his love that drives us — soul and body — in our time. As individuals and as the Church, we no longer live for ourselves. This — and only this — spreads life and lets life prevail. Our victory over death begins here and now.

15.08.25 m

Dear brothers and sisters,

Let us continue our journey in the school of the Gospel, following Jesus’ steps in the final days of his life. Today we will pause at an intimate, dramatic, yet also profoundly true scene: the moment at which, during the Passover supper, Jesus reveals that one of the Twelve is about to betray him: “Amen, I say to you, one of you will betray me, one who is eating with me” (Mk 14:18).

Strong words. Jesus does not utter them to condemn, but to show how love, when it is true, cannot do without the truth. The room on the upper floor, where shortly beforehand everything was carefully prepared, suddenly fills with a painful silence, made up of questions, suspicions, vulnerability. It is a pain we too know well, when the shadow of betrayal is cast over the closest relationships.

And yet, the way in which Jesus speaks about what is about to happen is surprising. He does not raise his voice, nor point his finger, nor utter the name of Judas. He speaks in such a way that each one can ask himself the question. And this is exactly what happens. Saint Mark tells us: “They began to be distressed and to say to him, one by one, ‘Surely it is not I?’” (Mk 14:19).

Dear friends, this question – “Surely it is not I?” – is perhaps among the sincerest that we can ask ourselves. It is not the question of the innocent, but of the disciple who discovers himself to be fragile. It is not the cry of the guilty, but the whisper of him who, while wanting to love, is aware of being able to do harm. It is in this awareness that the journey of salvation begins.

Jesus does not denounce in order to humiliate. He tells the truth because he wants to save. And in order to be saved, it is necessary to feel: to feel that one is involved, to feel that one is beloved despite everything, to feel that evil is real but that it does not have the last word. Only those who have known the truth of a deep love can also accept the wound of betrayal.

The disciples’ reaction is not anger, but sadness. They are not indignant, they are sorrowful. It is a pain that arises from the real possibility of being involved. And precisely this sorrow, if welcomed with sincerity, becomes a place for conversion. The Gospel does not teach us to deny evil, but to recognize it as a painful opportunity for rebirth.

Jesus then adds a phrase that troubles us and makes us think. “But woe to that man by whom the Son of Man is betrayed. It would be better for that man if he had never been born” (Mk 14:21). They are harsh words, certainly, but they must be understood well: it is not a curse, but rather a cry of pain. In Greek, that “woe” sounds like a lamentation, an “alas”, an exclamation of sincere and deep compassion.

We are used to judging. Instead, God accepts suffering. When he sees evil, he does not avenge it, but grieves. And that “better if he had never been born” is not a condemnation imposed a priori, but a truth that any of us can recognize: if we deny the love that has generated us, if by betraying we become unfaithful to ourselves, then we truly lose the meaning of our coming into the world, and we exclude ourselves from salvation.

And yet, precisely there, at the darkest point, the light is not extinguished. On the contrary, it starts to shine. Because if we recognize our limit, if we let ourselves be touched by the pain of Christ, then we can finally be born again. Faith does not spare us from the possibility of sin, but if always offers us a way out of it: that of mercy.

Jesus is not scandalized by our fragility. He knows well that no friendship is immune from the risk of betrayal. But Jesus continues to trust. He continues to sit at the table with his followers. He does not give up breaking bread, even for those who will betray him. This is the silent power of God: he never abandons the table of love, even when he knows he will be left alone.

Dear brothers and sisters, we too can ask ourselves today, with sincerity: “Surely it is not I?”. Not to feel accused, but to open a space for truth in our hearts. Salvation begins here: with the awareness that we may be the ones who break our trust in God, but that we can also be the ones who gather it, protect it and renew it.

Ultimately, this is hope: knowing that even if we fail, God will never fail us. Even if we betray him, he never stops loving us. And if we allow ourselves to be touched by this love – humble, wounded, but always faithful – then we can truly be reborn. And we can begin to live no longer as traitors, but as children who are always loved.

I greet all the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors taking part in today’s Audience, particularly the groups from England, Hungary, Malta, Kenya, South Africa, Uganda, Zambia, India, Indonesia, Iraq, Jerusalem, the Philippines, Vietnam, Barbados and the United States of America. As we prepare to celebrate the Solemnity of the Assumption of Mary into heaven on August 15th, I entrust you and your families to the tender care of Our Lady. Through her intercession may you be strengthened in your weakness, comforted in your trials and given the joy and peace of Jesus Christ, her Son. God bless you.

13.08.25

Dear brothers and sisters, happy Sunday!

In today’s Gospel Jesus invites us to consider how we will invest the treasure that is our life (cf. Lk 12:32-48). He says: “Sell your possessions and give alms” (v. 33).

He exhorts us not to keep to ourselves the gifts that God has given us, but rather to use them generously for the good of others, especially those most in need of our help. It is not simply a matter of sharing the material goods we have, but putting our skills, time, love, presence and compassion at the service of others. In short, everything in God’s plan that makes each of us a priceless and unrepeatable good, a living and breathing asset, must be cultivated and invested in order to grow. Otherwise, these gifts dry up and diminish in value, or they end up being taken away by those, who like thieves, snatch them up as something simply to be consumed.

The gift of God that we are is not made to be used in such a manner. We need space, freedom and relationships in order to come to fulfillment and express ourselves. We need love, which alone transforms and ennobles every aspect of our existence, making us more and more like God. It is not by chance that Jesus pronounces these words while he is on the road to Jerusalem, where he will offer himself on the cross for our salvation.

The works of mercy are the most secure and profitable bank where we can entrust the treasure of our existence, because there, as the Gospel teaches us, with “two small copper coins” even the poor widow becomes the richest person in the world (cf. Mk 12:41-44).

In this regard, Saint Augustine says: “If you gave a pound of coppers and received a pound of silver, or a pound of silver and received one of gold, you would be delighted at your luck. What you give will certainly be transformed; it isn’t gold, it isn’t silver, but eternal life that will come your way” (Sermon 390, 2, PL 39, 1706). And he explains why: “It will be transformed, because you yourself will be transformed” (ibid).

To understand what he means by this, we can think of a mother who embraces her children: is she not the most beautiful and richest person in the world? Or a boyfriend and girlfriend, when they are together: do they not feel like king and queen? We could think of many other examples.

Therefore, wherever we are, in the family, parish, school or workplace, we should try not to miss any opportunity to act with love. This is the type of vigilance that Jesus asks of us: to grow in the habit of being attentive, ready and sensitive to one another, just as he is with us in every moment.

Sisters and brothers, let us entrust to Mary this desire and responsibility: may she, the Morning Star, help us to be the “watchmen” of mercy and peace in a world marked by many divisions. Saint John Paul II taught us this (cf. Vigil of Prayer for the 15th World Youth Day, 19 August 2000). And in a beautiful way, so did the young people who came to Rome for the Jubilee.

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

Let us continue to pray for an end to wars. The 80th anniversary of the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki has awakened the dutiful rejection of war as a way to resolve conflicts all over the world. Those who make decisions should always keep in mind their responsibilities for the consequences of their choices on the populations. May they not ignore the needs of the weakest and the universal desire for peace.

In this sense, I congratulate Armenia and Azerbaijan, who have reached the signing of the Joint Peace Declaration. I hope that this event will contribute to a stable and lasting peace in the South Caucasus.

On the other hand, the situation of the people of Haiti is increasingly desperate. There are reports of murders, violence of all kinds, human trafficking, forced exiles and kidnappings. I make a heartfelt appeal to all those responsible for the immediate release of the hostages, and I ask for the concrete support of the international community to create the social and institutional conditions that allow Haitians to live in peace.

I greet all of you, the faithful of Rome and pilgrims from various countries, especially those from Woodstock, Georgia, in the United States, and those from the Diocese of Down and Connor in Ireland.

Thank you all for your presence and your prayers. Happy Sunday!

10.08.25

Dear brothers and sisters,

Let us continue our Jubilee journey in the discovery of the face of Christ, in whom our hope takes shape and consistency. Today we will start to reflect on the mystery of the passion, death and resurrection of Jesus. Let us begin by meditating on a word that seems simple but holds a precious secret of Christian life: prepare.

In the Gospel of Mark, it is told that “on the first day of the Feast of Unleavened Bread, when they sacrificed the Passover lamb, his disciples said to him, ‘Where do you want us to go and prepare for you to eat the Passover?’” (Mk 14:12). It is a practical question, but also filled with anticipation. The disciples perceive that something important is about to happen, but they do not know the details. Jesus’ answer seems almost to be a riddle: “Go into the city and a man will meet you, carrying a jar of water” (v. 13). The details become symbolic: a man carrying a jar, a typically feminine gesture at that time; an upstairs room already prepared; an unknown host. It is as if everything has been arranged in advance. In fact, this is exactly the case. In this episode, the Gospel shows that love is not the result of chance, but of a conscious choice. It is not a simple reaction, but a decision that requires preparation. Jesus does not face his passion out of fatalism, but out of fidelity to a path freely and carefully accepted and followed. This is what comforts us: knowing that the gift of his life stems from conscious intention, not a sudden impulse.

That “upstairs room already prepared” tells us that God always precedes us. Even before we realize we need to be welcomed, the Lord has already prepared a space for us where we can recognize ourselves and feel we are his friends. This place is, fundamentally, our heart: a “room” that may seem empty, but which awaits only to be recognized, filled and cherished. The Passover, which the disciples must prepare, is in reality already present in Jesus’ heart. He has already thought of everything, arranged everything, decided everything. However, he asks his friends to do their part. This teaches us something essential for our spiritual life: grace does not eliminate our freedom, but rather awakens it. God’s gift does not eliminate our responsibility, but makes it fruitful.

Today too, like then, there is a supper to prepare. It is not only a matter of the liturgy, but of our readiness to enter into a gesture that transcends us. The Eucharist is not celebrated only at the altar, but also in daily life, where it is possible to experience everything as an offering and giving of thanks. To prepare to celebrate this thanksgiving does not mean doing more, but leaving room. It means removing what encumbers us, reducing our demands and ceasing to hold unrealistic expectations. Indeed, too often we confuse preparations with illusions. Illusions distract us; preparations guide us. Illusions seek a result; preparations make an encounter possible. True love, the Gospel reminds us, is given before it is reciprocated. It is an anticipatory gift. It is not based on what is received, but on what one wishes to offer. It is what Jesus lived with his disciples: while they still did not understand, while one of them was about to betray him and another to deny him, he was preparing a communion supper for them all.

Dear brothers and sisters, we too are invited to “prepare the Passover” of the Lord. Not only the liturgical one: that of our life too. Every gesture of willingness, every gratuitous act, every forgiveness given in advance, every effort patiently accepted, is a way to prepare a place where God can dwell. We can ask ourselves, then: what spaces in my life do I need to put in order so that they are ready to receive the Lord? What does it mean for me today to “prepare”? Perhaps to renounce a demand, to stop waiting for others to change, to take the first step. Perhaps to listen more, to act less, or to learn how to trust in what has already been prepared.

If we accept the invitation to prepare the place of communion with God and among ourselves, we will discover we are surrounded by signs, encounters and words that guide us towards that room, spacious and already prepared, in which the mystery of an infinite love, sustaining us and always preceding us, is celebrated unceasingly. May the Lord grant us to be humble preparers of his presence. And, in this daily readiness, may that serene trust also grow in us, allowing us to face everything with a free heart. Because where love has been prepared, life can truly flourish.

I extend a warm welcome to all the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors taking part in today’s Audience, especially those coming from South Africa, Vietnam, Canada, United States of America. During summer, a time normally set aside for holidays and recreation, let us not neglect the Lord’s invitation to prepare our hearts by actively participating in the Eucharist and by doing generous acts of charity. May God bless you all!

Today marks the eightieth anniversary of the atomic bombing of the Japanese city of Hiroshima, and in two days’ time we will remember that of Nagasaki. I wish to assure my prayers to all those who have suffered its physical, psychological and social effects. Despite the passing of the years, those tragic events constitute a universal warning against the devastation caused by wars and, in particular, by nuclear weapons. I hope that in the contemporary world, marked by strong tensions and bloody conflicts, the illusory security based on the threat of mutual destruction may give way to the tools of justice, to the practice of dialogue, and to trust in fraternity.

My blessing to you all!

06.08.25

Dear friends,

The Lord Jesus is present among us and within us: all things and all people in the Eucharist. United with him, we wish to offer up a huge “thank you” to the Father for the gift of these days of your Jubilee. It has been an outpouring of grace for the Church and for the whole world! This has been possible through the participation of each one of you. For this, I wish to thank each of you, with all my heart. In particular I am thinking of the two young pilgrims, Maria and Pascale, one Spanish and the other Egyptian, who have passed away in these days. I entrust them to the Lord.  I thank the bishops, priests, religious men and women, and educators who accompanied you and all those who prayed for this event and participated spiritually.

In communion with Christ, our peace and hope for the world, we are closer than ever to young people who suffer the most serious evils, which are caused by other human beings. We are with the young people of Gaza, we are with the young people of Ukraine, with those of every land bloodied by war. My young brothers and sisters, you are the sign that a different world is possible: a world of fraternity and friendship, where conflicts are not resolved with weapons but with dialogue.

Yes, with Christ it is possible! With his love, with his forgiveness, and with the power of his Spirit. My dear friends, united to Jesus, like branches to the vine, you will bear much fruit. You will be the salt of the earth and the light of the world. You will be seeds of hope where you live, in your families, among your friends, at school, at work, and in sports. You will be seeds of hope with Christ, our hope.

After this Jubilee, the “pilgrimage of hope” of young people continues and will take us to Asia! I renew the invitation that Pope Francis extended in Lisbon two years ago. Young people from all over the world will gather together with the Successor of Peter to celebrate World Youth Day in Seoul, Korea, from 3 to 8 August 2027. The theme will be “Take courage! I have overcome the world!” (Jn 16:33). It is precisely the hope that dwells in our hearts that gives us the strength to proclaim the victory of the risen Christ over evil and death; and you, young pilgrims of hope, will be witnesses of this to the ends of the earth! I look forward to seeing you in Seoul: let us continue to dream together and to hope together.

Let us entrust ourselves to the maternal protection of the Virgin Mary.

Dear young people, I would like to offer a few final words.

Thank you again to all of you! Thank you for the music, thank you to everyone who worked to prepare so many things during this week for this Jubilee. 

We have already said that the next gathering will be in Korea.  A round of applause to the many Koreans in attendance!

I ask you also to bring greetings to the many young people who could not be here with us, in so many countries where it was impossible to leave. There are places from where young people could not come here, for reasons that we know.

Bring this joy, this enthusiasm to the whole world. You are salt of the earth and the light of the world!  Take this greeting to all of your friends, to all of the young people who need a message of hope.

Again, thank you to all of you! And have a safe trip home

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Good morning! Happy Sunday! I hope that all of you rested a little bit. We will shortly begin the greatest celebration that Christ left us, his very presence in the Eucharist. God bless you all. May this be a truly memorable occasion for each and every one of us when together, as Christ’s Church, we walk together and we live with Jesus Christ.

A blessed celebration to all!

Dear young people,

After last night’s Prayer Vigil, we gather again today to celebrate the Eucharist, the Sacrament of the Lord’s total gift of himself to us.  We can imagine ourselves today retracing the journey made on Easter evening by the disciples on the road to Emmaus (cf. Lk 24:13-35): they set out from Jerusalem frightened and disappointed, convinced that, after Jesus’ death, there was nothing more to expect, nothing in which to place their hope. But they later found him along the way, welcomed him as a travelling companion, listened to him as he explained the Scriptures, and then recognized him in the breaking of the bread. Their eyes were opened, and the joyful news of Easter found a place in their hearts.

Today’s liturgy does not mention this episode directly, but it does invite us to reflect on what it recounts: the encounter with the risen Christ who transforms our lives and enlightens our affections, desires and thoughts.

The first reading, taken from the Book of Ecclesiastes, invites us, like the two disciples, to come to terms with the experience of our limitations and the fleeting nature of all things that pass away (cf. Eccl 1:2; 2:21-23). On a similar note, the Responsorial Psalm presents us with the image of “the grass that is renewed… in the morning it flourishes and is renewed; in the evening it fades and withers” (Ps 90:5-6). These are two strong reminders which may be a bit shocking, but which should not frighten us as if they were “taboo” issues to be avoided. The fragility they speak of is, in fact, part of the marvel of creation. Think of the image of grass: is not a field of flowers beautiful? Of course, it is delicate, made up of small, vulnerable stems, prone to drying out, to being bent and broken. Yet at the same time these flowers are immediately replaced by others that sprout up after them, generously nourished and fertilized by the first ones as they decay on the ground. This is how the field survives: through constant regeneration. Even during the cold months of winter, when everything seems silent, its energy stirs beneath the ground, preparing to blossom into a thousand colors when spring comes.

We too, dear friends, are made this way, we are made for this. We are not made for a life where everything is taken for granted and static, but for an existence that is constantly renewed through gift of self in love. This is why we continually aspire to something “more” that no created reality can give us; we feel a deep and burning thirst that no drink in this world can satisfy. Knowing this, let us not deceive our hearts by trying to satisfy them with cheap imitations! Let us rather listen to them! Let us turn this thirst into a step stool, like children who stand on tiptoe, in order to peer through the window of encounter with God. We will then find ourselves before him, who is waiting for us, knocking gently on the window of our soul (cf. Rev 3:20). It is truly beautiful, especially at a young age, to open wide your hearts, to allow him to enter, and to set out on this adventure with him towards eternity.

Saint Augustine, reflecting on his intense search for God, asked himself: “What, then, is the object of our hope [...]? Is it the earth? No. Is it something that comes from the earth, such as gold, silver, trees, crops, or water [...]? These things are pleasing, these things are beautiful, these things are good” (Sermo 313/F, 3). And the conclusion he reached was: “Seek the one who made them, he is your hope” (ibid.). Thinking of his own journey, he prayed, saying: “You [Lord] were within me, but I was outside, and it was there that I searched for you […] You called, you shouted, and you broke through my deafness. You flashed, you shone and you dispelled my blindness. You breathed your fragrance on me; I drew in breath and now I pant for you. I have tasted you (cf. Ps 34:8; 1 Pt 2:3) now I hunger and thirst for more (cf. Mt 5:6; 1 Cor 4:11); you touched me, and I burned for your peace” (Confessions, 10, 27).

Sisters and brothers, these are beautiful words and they remind us of what Pope Francis said to young people like you in Lisbon during World Youth Day: “we find ourselves facing great questions that have no simple or immediate answers, but challenge us to continue the journey, to rise above ourselves and to press beyond the here and now. [...] We are called to something higher, and we will never be able to soar unless we first take flight. We should not be alarmed, then, if we sense an inner thirst, a restless, unfulfilled longing for meaning and a future [...] We should not be lethargic, but alive!” (Address to University Students, 3 August 2023).

There is a burning question in our hearts, a need for truth that we cannot ignore, which leads us to ask ourselves: what is true happiness? What is the true meaning of life? What can free us from being trapped in meaninglessness, boredom and mediocrity?

In recent days, you have had many beautiful experiences. You have met other young people from different parts of the world and from diverse cultures. You have exchanged knowledge, shared expectations and entered into dialogue with the city through art, music, technology and sport. At the Circus Maximus, you also approached the Sacrament of Penance and received God’s forgiveness, asking for his help to live a good life.

Through all this, you can grasp an important point: the fullness of our existence does not depend on what we store up or, as we heard in the Gospel, on what we possess (cf. Lk 12:13-21). Rather, fullness has to do with what we joyfully welcome and share (cf. Mt 10:8-10; Jn 6:1-13). Buying, hoarding and consuming are not enough. We need to lift our eyes, to look upwards, to the “things that are above” (Col 3:2), to realize that everything in the world has meaning only insofar as it serves to unite us to God and to our brothers and sisters in charity, helping us to grow in “compassion, kindness, humility, meekness and patience” (Col 3:12), forgiveness (cf. ibid., v. 13) and peace (cf. Jn 14:27), all in imitation of Christ (cf. Phil 2:5). And in this way we will grow in an ever deeper understanding of what it means that hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us (cf. Rom 5:5).

Dear young people, Jesus is our hope. It is he, as Saint John Paul II said, “who stirs in you the desire to do something great with your lives [...] to commit… to improving yourselves and society, making the world more human and more fraternal.” (XV World Youth Day, Prayer Vigil, 19 August 2000). Let us remain united to him, let us remain in his friendship, always, cultivating it through prayer, adoration, Eucharistic Communion, frequent Confession, and generous charity, following the examples of Blessed Piergiorgio Frassati and Blessed Carlo Acutis who will soon be declared saints. Aspire to great things, to holiness, wherever you are. Do not settle for less. You will then see the light of the Gospel growing every day, in you and around you.

I entrust you to the Virgin Mary, Our Lady of Hope. With her help, as you return to your countries in the coming days, in every part of the world, continue to walk joyfully in the footsteps of the Savior, and spread your enthusiasm and the witness of your faith to everyone you meet!  Have a good trip home!

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Question 1 – Friendship

Holy Father, my name is Dulce María, I am 23 years old and I am from Mexico. I come to you as a spokesperson for a reality that young people experience in so many parts of the world. Holy Father, we are children of our time. We live in a culture that shapes us without our realizing it; it is a culture marked by technology, especially by social media. We often get excited about having lots of friends and creating close relationships, but at the same time we increasingly experience different forms of loneliness. We are close and connected to so many people, yet they are not true and lasting relationships, but rather fleeting and often illusory. Holy Father, my question is: how can we find true friendship and genuine love that will lead us to true hope? How can faith help us build our future?

 Dear young people, human relationships, our relationships with others are essential for each of us, starting with the fact that all men and women in the world are born as someone’s children. Our life begins with a bond, and it is through relationships that we grow. In this process, culture plays a fundamental role: it is like the lens through which we understand ourselves and interpret the world. Just like a dictionary, every culture contains both words that are noble and words that are vulgar, values and also errors that we must learn to recognize. By passionately searching for the truth, we do not merely receive a culture, but also transform it through the choices we make. Truth, in fact, is a bond that connects words to things and names to faces. Lies, on the other hand, divide these elements and lead to confusion and misunderstanding.

Now, among the many cultural connections that characterize our lives, internet and social media have become “an extraordinary opportunity for dialogue, encounter and exchange between persons, as well as access to information and knowledge” (Francis, Christus Vivit, 87). However, these tools are misleading when they are controlled by commercialism and interests that fragment our relationships. In this regard, Pope Francis recalled that sometimes “the whole apparatus of communications, advertising and social networking can be used to lull us, to make us addicted to consumerism” (Christus Vivit, 105). It is then that our relationships become confused, restless or unstable. Furthermore, as you know, today there are algorithms that tell us what we should watch, what we should think, and who our friends should be. And so our relationships become confusing, sometimes anxious. When a tool controls someone, that person becomes a tool: a commodity on the market and, in turn, a piece of merchandise. Only genuine relationships and stable connections can build good lives.

Dear young people, every person naturally desires a good life, just as lungs long for air, but how difficult it is to find it! How difficult it is to find true friendship! Centuries ago, Saint Augustine understood the deepest desire of our hearts, the desire of every human heart, even without the technological developments of today. He too had a restless youth, but he did not settle for less, he did not silence the cry of his heart. Augustine sought the truth, the truth that does not disappoint and the beauty that does not fade. And how did he find it? How did he find true friendship and a love capable of giving hope? By finding the one who was already looking for him, by finding Jesus Christ. How did he build his future? By following the one who had always been his friend. In his own words, friendship is nowhere faithful but in Christ. Saint Augustine tells us there is no friendship that is authentic if that is not in Christ. And the true friendship is always in Jesus Christ with truth, love and respect. Only in him can it be eternal and happy (cf. Against Two Letters of the Pelagians I, I, 1). The one who loves God in his friend, truly loves his friend (cf. Sermon 336), Saint Augustine tells us. Friendship with Christ, which forms the basis of faith, is not just one aid among many others for building the future; it is our guiding star. According to Blessed Pier Giorgio Frassati, to live without faith, without a patrimony to defend, without a steady struggle for truth, is not living, but existing (cf. Letters, 27 February 1925). It is when our friendships reflect this intense bond with Jesus that they really become sincere, generous and true.

Dear young people, love one another! Love one another in Christ! Know how to see Jesus in others. Friendship can truly change the world. Friendship is a path to peace.

 Question 2 – The Courage to Choose

Holy Father, my name is Gaia. I am Italian and am 19 years old. Tonight, all of us young people here would like to talk to you about our dreams, hopes and doubts. Holy Father, our years are marked by important decisions as we are faced with choices that will shape our future. However, due to the climate of uncertainty surrounding us, we are tempted to procrastinate, and we are paralyzed by the fear of an uncertain future. We know that choosing means giving something else up and this becomes an obstacle for us. Despite everything, we sense that hope points to achievable goals, even if they are marked by the precariousness of the present moment.

Holy Father, we ask you: where do we find the courage to choose? How can we be courageous and live the adventure of freedom, making radical and meaningful choices?

 Thank you for this question. The question is, where can we find the courage to choose and to make wise decisions? To choose is a fundamental human act. Looking at it closely, we realize that it is not just a matter of choosing something, but of choosing someone. When we make a choice, in the strict sense, we decide who we want to become. The most important choice is the decision about the direction of our life: What kind of man do you want to be? What kind of woman do you want to be? Dear young people, we learn to choose through the trials of life, but above all by remembering that we have been chosen. This reality must be explored and fostered. We received life as a gift, without choosing it! Our existence did not originate from our decision, but from a love that wanted us. Throughout our lives, those who help us recognize and renew this grace through our choices prove themselves to be our true friends.

Dear young people, you said it well: “choosing means giving something else up and this becomes an obstacle for us.” To be free, we need to start from a stable foundation, from the rock that supports our steps. This rock is a love that precedes us, surprises us and is infinitely greater than us: the love of God. Therefore, before God, choice becomes a judgment that takes nothing away, but always leads to the greatest good.

The courage to choose comes from love, which God shows us in Christ. It is he who loved us with his whole self, saving the world and thus showing us that self-giving is the way to our fulfillment. For this reason, the encounter with Jesus corresponds to the deepest longings of our hearts, because Jesus is God’s love made man.

Twenty-five years ago, right here where we are now, Saint John Paul II spoke on this subject, saying: “It is Jesus in fact that you seek when you dream of happiness; he is waiting for you when nothing else you find satisfies you; he is the beauty to which you are so attracted; it is he who provokes you with that thirst for fullness that will not let you settle for compromise; it is he who urges you to shed the masks of a false life; it is he who reads in your hearts your most genuine choices, the choices that others try to stifle” (Prayer Vigil on the 15th World Youth Day, 19 August 2000). Fear then gives way to hope, because we are certain that God brings to completion what he begins. 

We recognize his faithfulness in the words of those who truly love, because they have been truly loved. “You are my life, Lord”: this is what a priest and a consecrated sister say full of joy and in complete freedom, “You are my life, Lord.” “I take you to be my wife and I take you to be my husband”: this is the phrase that transforms the love of a man and a woman into an efficacious sign of God’s love in marriage. These are radical, meaningful choices: Matrimony, Holy Orders, and Consecrated Life. They express the free and liberating gift of self that makes us truly happy. That is where we find happiness, when we learn to give ourselves, to give our lives for others.

These choices give meaning to our lives, transforming them into the image of the perfect love that created them and redeemed them from all evil, even from death. I say this tonight, thinking of two young women, María, from Spain, who was 20 years old, and Pascale, from Egypt, who was 18 years old. Both chose to come to Rome for the Jubilee of Youth, and both have passed away in these days. Let us together pray for them; let us also pray for their families, friends and communities. May the Risen Jesus receive them into the peace and joy of his Kingdom. And I would also like to ask for your prayers for another friend, a young Spanish man, Ignacio Gonzalvez, who was admitted to the “Bambino Gesù” hospital. Let us pray for him and for his health.

Find the courage to make difficult choices and say to Jesus: “You are my life, Lord.” “Lord, You are my life.” Thank you.

 Question 3 – The Call to do Good

Holy Father, my name is Will. I am 20 years old and I am from the United States. I would like to ask you a question on behalf of so many young people out there who yearn, in their hearts, for something deeper. We are drawn to the interior life even if at first glance we are judged as a superficial and thoughtless generation. Deep within ourselves, we feel drawn to the beautiful and the good as sources of truth. The value of silence, as in this Vigil, fascinates us, even if at times it instills fear because of a sense of emptiness. Holy Father, I would like to ask you: how can we truly encounter the Risen Lord in our lives and be sure of his presence even in the midst of trials and uncertainties?

 To launch this Jubilee Year, Pope Francis released the document called Spes non confundit, which means “hope does not disappoint”. In that document, he wrote: “In the heart of each person, hope dwells as the desire and expectation of good things to come” (Spes non confundit, 1). In the Bible, the word “heart” usually refers to a person’s innermost being, which includes our conscience. Our understanding of what is good, then, reflects how our conscience has been shaped by the people in our lives; those who were kind to us, those who listened to us with love, those who helped us. Those people helped to raise you in goodness and, therefore, to form your conscience to seek the good in your daily choices.

Dear young people, Jesus is the friend who always accompanies us in the formation of our conscience. If you truly want to encounter the Risen Lord, then listen to his word, which is the Gospel of salvation. Reflect on your way of living, and seek justice in order to build a more humane world. Serve the poor, and so bear witness to the good that we would always like to receive from our neighbours. Be united with Jesus Christ in the Eucharist. Adore Christ in the Blessed Sacrament, the source of eternal life. Study, work and love according to the example of Jesus, the good Teacher who always walks beside us.

As we seek what is good, let us ask him at every step: stay with us, Lord (cf. Lk 24:29). Stay with us, because without you we cannot do the good we desire. You want what our good; indeed Lord you are our good. Those who encounter you also want others to encounter you, because your word is a light brighter than any star, illuminating even the darkest night. Pope Benedict XVI liked to say that those who believe are never alone. In other words, we encounter Christ in the Church, that is, in the communion of those who sincerely seek him. The Lord himself gathers us together to form a community, not just any community, but a community of believers who support one another. How much the world needs missionaries of the Gospel who are witnesses of justice and peace! How much the future needs men and women who are witnesses of hope! Dear young people, this is the task that the Risen Lord entrusts to each one of us!

Saint Augustine wrote: “You stir us to take pleasure in praising you, because you have made us for yourself, and our heart is restless until it rests in you… Lord, I would seek you… and calling upon you is an act of believing in you” (Confessions, I, 1). Following those words of Augustine, and in response to your questions, I would like to invite each of you, dear young people, to say to the Lord: “Thank you, Jesus, for calling me. My desire is to remain as one of your friends, so that, embracing you, I may also be a companion on the journey for anyone I meet. Grant, O Lord, that those who meet me may encounter you, even through my limitations and frailties.” Through praying these words, our dialogue will continue each time we look at the crucified Lord, for our hearts will be united in him. Each time we adore Christ in the Eucharist, our hearts will be united in him. Finally, my prayer for you is that you may persevere in faith, with joy and courage! And we can say, “Thank you Jesus for loving us.” Stay with us Lord.

I would like to thank the choir and the musicians: thank you for accompanying us! Thank you all! Please get some rest. We will meet here tomorrow morning for Holy Mass. Best wishes to you all. Good night!

02.08.25