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Dear brothers and sisters, good morning!

To believe in the death and resurrection of Christ and to live paschal spirituality imbues life with hope and encourages us to invest in goodness. In particular, it helps us to love and nurture fraternity, which is without doubt one of the great challenges for contemporary humanity, as Pope Francis saw clearly.

Fraternity stems from something deeply human. We are capable of forming relationship and, if we want, we are able to build authentic bonds between us. Without relationships, which support and enrich us from the very beginning of our life, we would not be able to survive, grow or learn. They are manifold, varied in form and depth. But it is certain that our humanity is best fulfilled when we exist and live together, when we succeed in experiencing authentic, not formal, bonds with the people around us. If we turn in on ourselves, we risk falling ill with loneliness, and even a narcissism that is concerned with others only out of self-interest. The other is then reduced to someone from whom we can take, without ever being truly willing to give, to offer ourselves.

We are well aware that even today fraternity cannot be taken for granted, it is not immediate. Many conflicts, many wars all over the world, social tensions and feelings of hatred would seem to prove the opposite. However, fraternity is not a beautiful but impossible dream; it is not the desire of a deluded few. But to overcome the shadows that threaten it, we need to go to the source, and above all to draw light and strength from Him who alone frees us from the poison of enmity.

The word “fraternity” derives from a very ancient root, which means to care for, to have at heart, to support and sustain. Applied to every human person, it becomes an appeal, an invitation. Often, we think that the role of a brother, a sister, refers to kinship, to being related, to being part of the same family. In truth, we know well how disagreement, division and sometimes hatred can devastate even relationships between relatives, not only between strangers.

This shows the need, more urgent today than ever, to reflect on the greeting with which Saint Francis of Assisi addressed everyone, regardless of their geographical, cultural, religious and doctrinal origins: omnes fratres was the inclusive way in which the Saint placed all human beings on the same level, precisely because he recognized them in their common destiny of dignity, dialogue, welcome and salvation. Pope Francis reproposed this approach of the Poverello of Assisi, emphasizing its relevance after eight hundred years, in the Encyclical Fratelli tutti.

That “tutti”, everyone, which meant for Saint Francis the welcoming sign of a universal fraternity, expresses an essential feature of Christianity, which ever since the beginning has been the proclamation of the Good News destined for the salvation of all, never in an exclusive or private form. This fraternity is based on Jesus’ commandment, which is new insofar as He accomplished it Himself, the superabundant fulfilment of the will of the Father: thanks to Him, who loved us and gave Himself for us, we can in turn love one another and give our lives for others, as children of the one Father and true brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ.

Jesus loved us up to the very end, says the Gospel of John (cf. 13:1). As the passion draws near, the Master knows well that his historical time is coming to an end. He fears what is about to happen; He experiences the most terrible torment and abandonment. His Resurrection, on the third day, is the beginning of a new history. And the disciples become fully brothers and sisters, after so much time of life spent together, not only when they live through the pain of the death of Jesus, but above all, when they recognize Him as the Risen One, receive the gift of the Spirit and become witnesses to Him.

Brothers and sisters support each other in hardship, they do not turn their back on those who are in need, and they weep and rejoice together in the active pursuit of unity, trust and mutual reliance. The dynamic is that which Jesus Himself gives to us: “Love one another as I have loved you” (cf. Jn 15:12). The fraternity given by Christ, who died and rose again, frees us from the negative logic of selfishness, division and arrogance, and restores to us our original vocation, in the name of a love and a hope that are renewed every day. The Risen One has shown us the way to journey with Him, to feel and to be “brothers and sisters all”.

I greet the English speaking pilgrims and visitors taking part in today’s audience, in particular the groups from England, Ireland, Finland, Malta, the Netherlands, Norway, Australia, New Zealand, China, Hong Kong, Indonesia, Japan, Malaysia, the Philippines, South Korea, Vietnam, Canada and the United States of America. 

In this the month dedicated to the holy souls, our brothers and sisters who have gone before us in faith, hope and love, let us pray for the grace to be strengthened in our resolve to live well Jesus’ commandment of love, so that we may enjoy life everlasting with our Lord and with all the holy ones.  May the peace and joy of Christ be with you all!  God bless you.

Last Saturday in Kochi, in the Indian state of Kerala, Mother Eliswa Vakayil, who lived in the nineteenth century, foundress of the Third Order of the Teresian Discalced Carmelites, was beatified. Her courageous commitment to the emancipation of the poorest girls is a source of inspiration for those who work, in the Church and in society, for the dignity of women.

Lastly, I greet the young people, the sick and the newlyweds. Today's liturgy commemorates Bishop St Josaphat, martyred because of his tireless zeal for the unity of the Church. I encourage each one to be aware of the gifts of grace received, so that they may be made available to the community.

My blessing to you all!

12.11.25

Brothers and sisters, happy Sunday!

On the feast of the Dedication of the Lateran Basilica, we contemplate the mystery of unity and communion with the Church of Rome, called to be the mother who cares for the journey of faith of Christians throughout the world.

The Cathedral of the Diocese of Rome and the seat of Peter’s successor, as we know, is not only a work of extraordinary historical, artistic and religious value, but it also represents the driving force of the faith entrusted to and preserved by the Apostles, and its transmission throughout history.  The greatness of this mystery also shines forth in the artistic splendor of the building, which in its central nave houses the twelve large statues of the Apostles, the first followers of Christ and witnesses of the Gospel.

This points to a spiritual perspective, which helps us to go beyond the external appearance, to understand that the mystery of the Church is much more than a simple place, a physical space, a building made of stones.  In reality, as the Gospel reminds us in the episode of Jesus’ purification of the Temple in Jerusalem (cf. Jn 2:13-22), the true sanctuary of God is Christ who died and rose again.  He is the only mediator of salvation, the only Redeemer, the One who, by uniting himself with our humanity and transforming us with his love, represents the door (cf. Jn 10:9) that opens wide for us and leads us to the Father.

United with him, we too are living stones of this spiritual edifice (cf. 1 Pet 2:4-5).  We are the Church of Christ, his body, his members called to spread his Gospel of mercy, consolation and peace throughout the world, through that spiritual worship that must shine forth above all in our witness of life.

Brothers and sisters, we must train our hearts to have this spiritual outlook.  So often, the frailties and mistakes of Christians, together with many clichés and prejudices, prevent us from grasping the richness of the mystery of the Church.  Her holiness, in fact, is not dependent upon our merits, but in the “gift of the Lord, never retracted,” that continues to choose “as the vessel of its presence, with a paradoxical love, the dirty hands of men” (J. Ratzinger, Introduction to Christianity, Brescia (2005), 331).

Let us walk then in the joy of being the holy People that God has chosen, and let us invoke Mary, Mother of the Church, to help us welcome Christ and accompany us with her intercession.

Dear brothers and sisters,

I express my closeness to the people of the Philippines who have been hit by a violent typhoon: I pray for the deceased and their families, as well as for the injured and displaced.

Today, the Church in Italy celebrates Thanksgiving Day.  I join the Bishops in encouraging responsible care for the land, combating food waste, and adopting sustainable agricultural practices. Let us thank God for “our sister Mother Earth” (Saint Francis, Canticle of the Creatures) and for those who cultivate and protect her!

I express my heartfelt appreciation for all those who, at every level, are committed to building peace in the various regions affected by war.  In these last few days, we have prayed for the dead and among these, unfortunately, are many who were killed in combat and bombings, even though they were civilians, children, elderly, or sick people.  If we truly want to honour their memory, we must stop the wars and put all of our efforts into negotiations.

I wish all of you a blessed Sunday.

09.11.25 a

Dear brothers and sisters,

Today we celebrate the Feast of the Dedication of the Basilica of Saint John Lateran, which took place in the fourth century under Pope Sylvester I.  This Basilica, the Cathedral of Rome, was built at the behest of Emperor Constantine, after he granted Christians the freedom to profess their faith and practice their religion in the year 313.

Why is it that we commemorate this event to the present day?  Certainly to recall, with joy and gratitude, a historical event of great importance for the life of the Church, but this is not the only reason.  This Basilica, in fact, the “Mother of all Churches,” is much more than a monument or a historical memorial.  It is “a sign of the living Church, built with chosen and precious stones in Christ Jesus, the cornerstone (cf. 1 Pet 2:4-5)” (Italian Episcopal Conference, Rite of the Blessing of the Oils and Dedication of the Church and Altar, Introduction).  As such, it reminds us that we too are “living stones here on earth… built into” a spiritual temple (Dogmatic Constitution on the Church Lumen Gentium, 6).  For this reason, as Saint Paul VI noted, the early Christian community soon began to apply the “name of Church, which means the assembly of the faithful, to the temple that gathers them together” (Angelus, 9 November 1969).  It is the ecclesial community, “the Church, the society of believers, [which] gives Saint John Lateran its most solid and striking external structure” (ibid.).  Therefore, as we gaze upon this building, let us reflect on what it means to be Church in light of today’s readings.

Firstly, let us consider its foundations.  Their importance is obvious and, even somewhat unsettling.  If the builders had not dug deep enough to find a solid base on which to construct the rest, the entire building would have collapsed long ago or would be at risk of doing so at any moment, which would put us in grave danger.  Fortunately, however, those who came before us laid solid foundations for our Cathedral, digging deep with great effort before raising the walls that welcome us, and this makes us feel much more at ease.

This is a cause for reflection.  As laborers in the living Church, we too must first dig deep within ourselves and around ourselves before we can build impressive structures.  We must remove any unstable material that would prevent us from reaching the solid rock of Christ (cf. Mt 7:24-27).  This is precisely what Saint Paul speaks about in the second reading when he says that “no one can lay any foundation other than the one that has been laid; that foundation is Jesus Christ” (1 Cor 3:11).  This means constantly returning to Jesus and his Gospel and being docile to the action of the Holy Spirit.  Otherwise, we risk overloading a building with heavy structures whose foundations are too weak to support.

Dear brothers and sisters, as we diligently labor in the service of God’s Kingdom, let us be neither hasty nor superficial.  Let us dig deep, unhindered by worldly criteria, which too often demand immediate results and disregard the wisdom of waiting.  The millennial history of the Church teaches us that with God’s help, a true community of faith can only be built with humility and patience.  Such a community is capable of spreading charity, promoting mission, proclaiming, celebrating and serving the Apostolic Magisterium of which this temple is the first seat (cf. Angelus, 9 November 1969).

The scene presented to us in today’s Gospel (Lk 19:1-10) is particularly enlightening in this regard: Zacchaeus, a wealthy and powerful man, feels moved to meet Jesus.  However, he realizes that he is too short to see him and so decides to climb a tree.  This is an unusual and inappropriate gesture for someone of his rank who is accustomed to getting whatever he wants at the tax office as though it were his due.  This time, however, the road is longer and climbing the branches means that Zacchaeus recognizes his own limitations and overcomes the inhibitions of his pride.  In doing so, he is able to meet Jesus, who tells him, “I must stay at your house today” (v. 5).  That encounter marks the beginning of a new life for Zacchaeus (cf. v. 8).

When Jesus calls us to take part in God’s great project, he transforms us by skillfully shaping us according to his plans for salvation.  In recent years, the image of a “construction site” has often been used to describe our ecclesial journey.  It is a beautiful image that speaks of activity, creativity and dedication, as well as hard work and sometimes complex problems to be solved.  It captures the concrete, tangible efforts of our communities as they grow every day, sharing their charisms under the guidance of their pastors.  The Church of Rome, in particular, stands as a witness to this in the current implementation phase of the Synod.  What has matured over years of work now needs to be put to the test and evaluated “in the field.”  This implies an uphill journey, but we must not be discouraged.  Instead, we should continue with confidence in our efforts to grow together.

The construction of the majestic building in which we find ourselves has had its share of critical moments, delays and changes to the original plans.  Yet thanks to the tenacity of those who came before us, we can now gather in this wonderful place.  In Rome, a great good is growing thanks to the efforts of many.  Let us not allow fatigue to prevent us from recognizing and celebrating this good, so that we may nourish and renew our enthusiasm.  After all, it is through charity in action that the face of our Church is shaped, making it ever clearer to all that she is a “mother,” the “mother of all Churches,” or even a “mom,” as Saint John Paul II said when speaking to children on this very feast day (cf. Address for the Dedication of the Basilica of Saint John Lateran, 9 November 1986).

Finally, I would like to mention an essential aspect of the Cathedral’s mission: liturgy.  The liturgy is “the summit toward which the activity of the Church is directed... the source from which all its power flows” (Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy Sacrosanctum Concilium, 10).  In it, we find the same themes we have already mentioned: we are built up as God’s temple, as his dwelling place in the Spirit and we receive strength to preach Christ in the world (cf. ibid., 2).  Therefore, care for the liturgy, especially here at the See of Peter, must be such that it can serve as an example for the whole people of God.  It must comply with the established norms, be attentive to the different sensibilities of those participating and keep with the principle of wise inculturation (cf. ibid., 37-38).  At the same time, it must remain faithful to the solemn sobriety typical of the Roman tradition, which can do so much good for the souls of those who actively participate in it (cf. ibid., 14).  Every care should be taken to ensure that the simple beauty of the rites expresses the value of worship for the harmonious growth of the whole Body of the Lord.  As Saint Augustine said, “beauty is nothing but love, and love is life” (Discourse 365, 1).  This truth is realized in an eminent way within the liturgy, and I hope that those who approach the altar of Rome’s Cathedral go away filled with the grace that the Lord wishes to flood the world (cf. Ezek 47:1-2, 8-9, 12).

09.11.25 m

Dear brothers and sisters, good morning, and welcome to you all!

The Pasch of Jesus is an event that does not belong to a distant past, now settled into tradition like so many other episodes in human history. The Church teaches us to make a living remembrance of the Resurrection every year on Easter Sunday and every day in the Eucharistic celebration, during which the promise of the risen Lord is most fully realized: “Lo, I am with you always, to the close of the age” (Mt 28:20).

For this reason, the Paschal Mystery is the cornerstone of Christian life, around which all other events revolve. We can say, then, without any irenicism or sentimentality, that every day is Easter. In what way?

Hour by hour, we have so many different experiences: pain, suffering, sadness, intertwined with joy, wonder, serenity. But through every situation, the human heart longs for fullness, a profound happiness. A great twentieth-century philosopher, Saint Teresa Benedicta of the Cross, born Edith Stein, who delved deeply into the mystery of the human person, reminds us of this dynamism of the constant search for fulfilment. “‘The human being”, she writes, “always longs to have being given to him anew, so that he can draw on what the moment gives him and at the same time takes away from him” (Finite and Eternal Being: An Attempt to Ascend to the Meaning of Being”, Rome 1998, 387). We are immersed in limitation, but we also strive to surpass it.

The Paschal proclamation is the most beautiful, joyful and overwhelming news that has ever resounded in all of history. It is the quintessential “Gospel”, which attests to the victory of love over sin and of life over death, and this is why it is the only thing capable of satisfying the demand for meaning that troubles our minds and our hearts. Human beings are inspired by an inner movement, striving towards a beyond that continually attracts them. No contingent reality satisfies us. We tend towards the infinite and the eternal. This contrasts with the experience of death, anticipated by suffering, loss, and failure. As Saint Francis sings, “nullu homo vivente po skampare” (“no living man can escape”) from death (cf. Canticle of the Sun).

Everything changes thanks to that morning when the women had gone to the tomb to anoint the body of the Lord, and found it empty. The question posed by the Magi who came from the East to Jerusalem: “Where is he who has been born king of the Jews?” (Mt 2:1-2), finds its definitive answer in the words of the mysterious youth dressed in white, who speaks to the women at Easter dawn: “You seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has risen, he is not here” (Mk 16:6).

From that morning until today, every day, Jesus will also have this title: the Living One, as He presents himself in Revelation: “I am the First and the Last, and the Living One: I died, and behold I am alive for evermore” (Rev 1:17-18). And in Him, we have the assurance of always being able to find the lodestar towards which we can direct our seemingly chaotic lives, marked by events that often appear confusing, unacceptable, incomprehensible: evil in its many forms, suffering, death, events that affect each and every one of us. Meditating on the mystery of the Resurrection, we find an answer to our thirst for meaning.

Faced with our fragile humanity, the Paschal proclamation becomes care and healing, nourishing hope in the face of the frightening challenges that life presents us with every day on a personal and global level. In the perspective of Easter, the Via Crucis, the Way of the Cross, is transfigured into the Via Lucis, the Way of Light. We need to savour and meditate on the joy after the pain, to retrace in the new light all the stages that preceded the Resurrection.

Easter does not eliminate the cross, but defeats it in the miraculous duel that changed our human history. Even our time, marked by so many crosses, invokes the dawn of Paschal hope. Christ’s Resurrection is not an idea, a theory, but the Event that is the foundation of faith. He, the Risen One, through the Holy Spirit, continues to remind us of this, so that we can be His witnesses even where human history does not see light on the horizon. Paschal hope does not disappoint. To believe truly in the Pasch through our daily journey means revolutionizing our lives, being transformed in order to transform the world with the gentle and courageous power of Christian hope.

I extend a warm welcome this morning to all the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors taking part in today’s Audience, especially those coming from England, Ireland, Angola, Kenya, Nigeria, Tanzania, Australia, China, Hong Kong, Indonesia, Japan, Malaysia, the Philippines, Canada and the United States of America.  During the month of November, we pray in particular for the eternal repose of the faithful departed. May the risen Lord show them his mercy, and may the hope brought by our faith in the Resurrection keep our eyes and our hearts turned towards the joy of Heaven.  God bless you all!

Brothers and sisters, I invite you to join in my prayers for all those who are tried by armed conflicts in different parts of the world; I am thinking in particular of Myanmar and I urge the international community not to forget the Burmese people and to provide the necessary humanitarian assistance.

Lastly, I greet the young people, the sick and the newlyweds. The recent feast of the Saints suggests to me a reflection on the common vocation to holiness. We are all called to be saints. I therefore invite you to adhere more and more to Christ, following the criteria of authenticity of which the saints have given us the example.

My blessing to you all!

05.11.25

Dear brother Cardinals and Bishops,

Dear brothers and sisters!

Today we renew the beautiful custom, on the occasion of the Commemoration of all the faithful departed, of celebrating the Eucharist in memory of the Cardinals and Bishops who left us during the past year, and we offer it with great affection for the elected soul of Pope Francis, who passed after opening the Holy Door and imparting the Easter Blessing to Rome and the world. Thanks to the Jubilee, this celebration – the first for me – acquires a characteristic flavour – the flavour of Christian hope.

The Word of God we have just heard enlightens us. First and foremost, with a great biblical icon that, we might say, encapsulates the meaning of this Holy Year: the account by Luke of the disciples of Emmaus (Lk 24, 13-35). In it, we find a vivid representation of the pilgrimage of hope, which passes through the encounter with the Risen Christ. The starting point is the experience of death, and in its worst form: a violent death that kills the innocent and thus leaves us discouraged, disheartened and desperate. How many people – how many “little ones”! – even in our times suffer the trauma of this fearful death, disfigured by sin. For this death, we cannot and must not say “laudato si’”, “praise to You”, because God the Father does not want it, and he sent his Son to the world to free us from it. It is written: Christ had to endure these sufferings in order to enter into his glory (cf. Lk 24:26) and to give us eternal life. He alone can can bear upon himself and within himself this corrupt death without being corrupted by it. He alone has the words of eternal life (cf. Jn 6:68) – we confess this with trepidation here near the tomb of Saint Peter – and these words have the power to rekindle faith and hope in our hearts (cf. v. 32).

When Jesus takes the bread in his hands, which had been nailed to the cross, delivers the blessing, breaks the bread and offers it, the disciples’ eyes open, faith blossoms in their heart, and with faith, a new hope. Yes! It is no longer the hope they had before, and which they had lost. It is a new reality, a gift, a grace of the Risen One: it is paschal hope.

Just as the life of the Risen Jesus is no longer what it was before, but is entirely new, created by the Father with the power of the Spirit, so the hope of the Christian is not human hope, it is neither that of the Greeks nor that of the Jews, it is not based on the wisdom of philosophers or on the justice that comes from the law, but solely and totally on the fact that the Crucified One is risen and appeared to Simon (cf. Lk 24:34), to the women and to the other disciples. It is a hope that does not look to the earthly horizon, but beyond, to God, to that height and depth from which the Sun rose to enlighten those who are in darkness and in the shadow of death (cf. Lk 1:78-79).

Then, yes, we can sing: “Praised be You, my Lord, through our Sister Bodily Death”.[1] The love of the Crucified and Risen Christ has transfigured our death: He has turned it from an enemy into a sister, he has tamed it. And faced with it, we “may not grieve as others do who have no hope” (1 Ts 4:13). Certainly, we mourn when a loved one leaves us. We are distraught when a human being, especially a child, a “little one”, a fragile person, is snatched away by illness or, worse, by human violence. As Christians we are called to bear with Christ the burden of these crosses. But we are not as sad as those who have no hope, because even the most tragic death cannot prevent our Lord from welcoming our soul in his arms and transforming our mortal body, even the most disfigured, in the image of his glorious body (cf. Phil 3:21).

For this reason, Christians do not call burial places “necropolises” or “cities of the dead”, but “cemeteries”, which literally means “dormitories”, places where one rests awaiting resurrection. As the psalmist prophesies, “In peace I will both lie down and sleep; for thou alone, O Lord, makest me dwell in safety” (Ps 4:8).

Dear friends, beloved Pope Francis and the brother Cardinals and Bishops for whom we offer the Eucharistic sacrifice lived, bore witness to and taught this new, paschal hope. The Lord called to them and made them shepherds in his Church, and with their ministry they – to use the language of the Book of Daniel – “turned many to righteousness” (cf. Dn 12:3), that is, they led them on the path of the Gospel with the wisdom that comes from Christ, who for us became wisdom, justice, sanctification and redemption (cf. 1 Cor 1:30). May their souls be washed of every stain and may they shine like stars in heaven (cf. v. 3). And may their spiritual encouragement reach us, still pilgrims on earth, in the silence of prayer: “Hope in God; for I shall again praise Him, my help and my God” (Ps 42: 6, 12).

[1] Saint Francis of Assisi, Canticle of the Sun

03.11.25

Dear brothers and sisters, Happy Sunday!

In these first days of November, the resurrection of the crucified Jesus from the dead sheds light on the destiny of each one of us. For he told us: “This is the will of him who sent me, that I should lose nothing of all that he has given me, but raise it up on the last day” (Jn 6:39). Thus, the focus of God’s concerns is clear: that no one should perish forever and that everyone should have their own place and radiate their unique beauty.

This is the mystery that we celebrated yesterday on the Solemnity of All Saints: a communion of differences that, so to speak, extends God’s life to all his daughters and sons who wish to share in it. It is the desire written in the heart of every human being, a longing for recognition, attention and joy. As Pope Benedict XVI explained, the expression “eternal life” gives a name to this insuppressible expectation: not a succession of time without end, but being so immersed in an ocean of infinite love that time, before, and after no longer exist. This fullness of life and joy in Christ is what we hope for and await with all our being (cf. Encyclical Letter Spe Salvi, 12).

Today’s Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed brings this mystery even closer to us. Indeed, each time that death seems definitively to take away a voice, a face or an entire world, interiorly we understand God’s concern that no one perish. In fact, each person is an entire world. Today, then, is a day that challenges the human memory, so precious and yet so fragile. Without the memory of Jesus – of his life, death and resurrection – the immense treasure of daily life risks being forgotten. In the mind of Jesus, however, even those whom no one remembers, or whom history seems to have erased, always remain in their infinite dignity. Jesus, the rock which the builders rejected, is now the cornerstone (cf. Acts 4:11). That is the Easter proclamation. For this reason, Christians always remember the deceased in every Eucharist, and still today ask that those dear to them be remembered in the Eucharistic Prayer. From this proclamation arises the hope that no one will perish.

May visiting the cemetery, where silence interrupts the hustle and bustle of life, invite us all to remember and to wait in hope. As we say in the Creed: “I look forward to the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come.” Let us commemorate, therefore, the future, for we are not enclosed in the past or in sentimental tears of nostalgia. Neither are we sealed within the present, as in a tomb. May the familiar voice of Jesus reach us, and reach everyone, because it is the only one that comes from the future. May he call us by name, prepare a place for us, free us from that sense of helplessness that tempts us to give up on life. May Mary, the woman of Holy Saturday, teach us once again to hope.

Dear brothers and sisters!

With great sorrow I am following the tragic news coming from Sudan, especially from the city of El Fasher in the war-torn region of North Darfur. Indiscriminate violence against women and children, attacks on unarmed civilians, and serious obstacles to humanitarian aid are causing unbearable suffering for a population already exhausted by long months of conflict. Let us pray that the Lord may receive the deceased with his embrace, strengthen those who are suffering, and move the hearts of those responsible. I renew my heartfelt appeal to all parties involved to agree to a ceasefire and to urgently open humanitarian corridors. Finally, I call on the international community to act with determination and generosity, to provide assistance and to support those working tirelessly to bring relief.

Let us also pray for Tanzania, where, following the recent elections, violent clashes have broken out, leaving many victims. I urge everyone to avoid all forms of violence and to follow the path of dialogue.

This afternoon, at the Verano Cemetery, I will celebrate the Eucharist for all the faithful departed. In spirit, I will visit the graves of my loved ones, and I will also pray for those who have no one to remember them.  But our heavenly Father knows and loves each of us, and he forgets no one!

02.11.25 a

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

We have gathered here to celebrate the Commemoration of all the faithful departed. We do so especially for those buried in this place, and with particular affection for our own loved ones. Although they left us on the day when they died, we continue to carry them with us in our hearts, and their memory remains always alive within us amid our daily lives. Often, something brings them to mind, and we recall experiences we once shared with them. Many places, even the fragrance of our homes, speak to us of those we have loved and who have gone before us, vividly maintaining their memory for us.

Today, however, we are not gathered merely to commemorate those who have departed from this world. Our Christian faith, founded upon Christ’s Paschal mystery, helps us to experience our memories as more than just a recollection of the past but also, and above all, as hope for the future. It is not so much about looking back, but instead looking forward towards the goal of our journey, towards the safe harbor that God has promised us, towards the unending feast that awaits us. There, around the Risen Lord and our loved ones, we hope to savor the joy of the eternal banquet. As we just heard from the prophet Isaiah: “On this mountain the Lord of hosts will make for all peoples a feast of rich food… He will swallow up death forever” (25: 6,8).

This hope for the future brings to life our remembrance and prayer today. This is not an illusion for soothing the pain of our separation from loved ones, nor is it mere human optimism. Instead, it is the hope founded on the Resurrection of Jesus who has conquered death and opened for us the path to the fullness of life. As I said in a recent catechesis, the Lord is “the destination of our journey. Without his love, the voyage of life would become a wandering without a goal, a tragic mistake with a missed destination… The Risen One guarantees our arrival, leading us home, where we are awaited, loved and saved” (General Audience, 15 October 2025).

This final destination, this banquet around which the Lord will gather us, will be an encounter of love. For it was out of love that God created us, through the love of his Son that he saves us from death, and in the joy of that same love, he desires that we live forever with him and with our loved ones. For this reason, whenever we dwell in love and show charity to others, especially the weakest and most needy, then we can journey towards our goal, and even now anticipate it through an unbreakable bond with those who have gone before us. Moroever, Jesus encourages us in these words: “… for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me” (Mt 25:35-36).

Love conquers death. In love, God will gather us together with our loved ones.  And, if we journey together in charity, our very lives become a prayer rising up to God, uniting us with the departed, drawing us closer to them as we await to meet them again in the joy of eternal life.

Dear brothers and sisters, even as our sorrow for those no longer among us remains etched in our hearts, let us entrust ourselves to the hope that does not disappoint (cf. Rom 5:5). Let us fix our gaze upon the Risen Christ and think of our departed loved ones as enfolded in his light. Let us allow the Lord’s promise of eternal life to resound in our hearts. He will destroy death forever. Indeed, he has already conquered it, opening for us the way to eternal life by passing through the valley of death during his Paschal mystery. Thus, united to him, we too may enter and pass through the valley of death.

The Lord awaits us, and when we finally meet him at the end of our earthly journey, we shall rejoice with him and with our loved ones who have gone before us. May this promise sustain us, dry our tears, and raise our gaze upwards toward the hope for the future that never fades.

02.11.25 m

On this Solemnity of All Saints, it is a great joy to include Saint John Henry Newman among the Doctors of the Church, and, at the same time, on the occasion of the Jubilee of the World of Education, to name him, together with Saint Thomas Aquinas, as co-Patron of the Church’s educational mission. Newman’s impressive spiritual and cultural stature will surely serve as an inspiration to new generations whose hearts thirst for the infinite, and who, through research and knowledge, are willing to undertake that journey which, as the ancients said, takes us per aspera ad astra, through difficulties to the stars.

The lives of the saints teach us that it is possible to live passionately amidst the complexity of the present, without neglecting the apostolic mandate to “shine like stars in the world” (Phil 2:15). On this solemn occasion, I wish to say to teachers and educational institutions: “Shine today like stars in the world” through your authentic commitment to the collective search for truth and to sharing it with generosity and integrity. Indeed, you do so through your service to young people, especially the poor, and your daily witness to the fact that “Christian love is prophetic: it works miracles” (Apostolic Exhortation Dilexi Te, 120).

The Jubilee is a pilgrimage of hope, and all of you, in the great field of education, know well how much hope is an indispensable seed! When I reflect on schools and universities, I think of them as laboratories of prophecy, where hope is lived, and constantly discussed and encouraged.

This is also the meaning of the Beatitudes proclaimed in today’s Gospel. The Beatitudes bring with them a new interpretation of reality. They are both the path and the message of Jesus the Teacher. At first glance, it seems impossible to declare as blessed those who are poor, or those who hunger and thirst for justice, the persecuted or the peacemakers. Yet, that which seems inconceivable in the world’s thinking is filled with meaning and light when brought into contact with the Kingdom of God. In the saints, we see this kingdom approaching and becoming present among us. Saint Matthew rightly presents the Beatitudes as a teaching, depicting Jesus as a Master, who transmits a new perspective on things, which is reflected in his own journey. The Beatitudes, however, are not just another teaching; they are the teaching par excellence. In the same way, the Lord Jesus is not just one of many teachers, he is the Master par excellence. Moreover, he is the Educator par excellence. We are his disciples and are in his “school.” We learn how to discover in his life, namely in the path he has travelled, a horizon of meaning capable of shining a light on all forms of knowledge. May our schools and universities always be places of listening to the Gospel and putting it into practice!

Responding to today’s challenges may sometimes seem beyond our capabilities, but this is not the case. Let us not allow pessimism to defeat us! I recall what my beloved predecessor Pope Francis emphasized in his   Address to the First Plenary Assembly of the Dicastery for Culture and Education: that we must work together to set humanity free from the encircling gloom of nihilism, which is perhaps the most dangerous malady of contemporary culture, since it threatens to “cancel” hope. [1] This reference to the darkness that surrounds us echoes one of Saint John Henry Newman’s best-known texts, the hymn “Lead, Kindly Light.” In that beautiful prayer, we come to realize that we are far from home, our feet are unsteady, we cannot interpret clearly the way ahead. Yet none of this impedes us, since we have found our Guide: “Lead, Kindly Light, amid th’encircling gloom, Lead Thou me on;” “Lead, Kindly Light, The night is dark, and I am far from home, Lead Thou me on.”

The task of education is precisely to offer this Kindly Light to those who might otherwise remain imprisoned by the particularly insidious shadows of pessimism and fear. For this reason, I would like to say to you: let us disarm the false reasons for resignation and powerlessness, and let us share the great reasons for hope in today’s world. Let us reflect upon and point out to others those “constellations” that transmit light and guidance at this present time, which is darkened by so much injustice and uncertainty. I thus encourage you to ensure that schools, universities and every educational context, even those that are informal or street-based, are always gateways to a civilization of dialogue and peace. Through your lives, let the “great multitude” shine forth, of which the Book of Revelation speaks in today’s liturgy, and which “no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages,” and which stood “before the Lamb” (7:9).

In the biblical text, one of the elders observing the multitude asks: “Who are these… and from where have they come” (Rev 7:13). In this regard, in the field of education too, the Christian gaze rests on those who have come “out of the great tribulation” (v. 14) and recognizes in them the faces of so many brothers and sisters of every language and culture who, through the narrow gate of Jesus, have entered into the fullness of life. And so, once again, we must ask ourselves: “Does this mean that the less gifted are not human beings? Or that the weak do not have the same dignity as ourselves? Are those born with fewer opportunities of lesser value as human beings? Should they limit themselves merely to surviving? The worth of our societies, and our own future, depends on the answers we give to these questions” (Apostolic Exhortation Dilexi Te, 95). We can say, too, that the evangelical value of our education also depends on the answers we give.

The lasting legacy of Saint John Henry Newman includes some very significant contributions to the theory and practice of education. He wrote, “God has created me to do Him some definite service; He has committed some work to me which He has not committed to another. I have my mission—I never may know it in this life, but I shall be told it in the next” (Meditations and Devotions, III, I, 2). In these words, we find beautifully expressed the mystery of the dignity of every human person, and also the variety of gifts distributed by God.

Life shines brightly not because we are rich, beautiful or powerful. Instead, it shines when we discover within ourselves the truth that we are called by God, have a vocation, have a mission, that our lives serve something greater than ourselves. Every single creature has a role to play. The contribution that each person can make is uniquely valuable, and the task of educational communities is to encourage and cherish that contribution. Let us not forget that at the heart of the educational journey we do not find abstract individuals but real people, especially those who seem to be underperforming according to the parameters of economies that exclude or even kill them. We are called to form people, so that they may shine like stars in their full dignity.

We can say, then, that from a Christian perspective education helps everyone to become saints. Nothing less will do. Pope Benedict XVI, on his   Apostolic Journey to Great Britain in September 2010, during which he beatified John Henry Newman, invited   young people to become saints with these words: “What God wants most of all for each one of you is that you should become holy. He loves you much more than you could ever begin to imagine.” [2]  This is the universal call to holiness that the Second Vatican Council made an essential part of its message (cf.  Lumen Gentium, Chapter V). And holiness is intended for everyone, without exception, as a personal and communal journey marked out by the Beatitudes.

I pray that Catholic education will help each person to discover their own call to holiness. Saint Augustine, whom Saint John Henry Newman greatly admired, once said that we are fellow students who have one Teacher, whose school is on earth and whose chair is in heaven (cf. Serm. 292,1).

[1] Cf. FRANCIS,  Address to the Participants of the Plenary Assembly of the Dicastery for Culture and Education (21 November 2024).

[2] BENEDICT XVI,  Address to Pupils (17 September 2010).

Dear brothers and sisters,

I would like to greet all of you who have taken part in this sacred celebration, especially the cardinals, bishops and distinguished authorities.

I am very pleased to welcome the official delegation of the Church of England, led by His Grace Stephen Cottrell, Archbishop of York. Following the historic prayer meeting with His Majesty King Charles III, celebrated a few days ago in the Sistine Chapel, your presence today expresses our shared joy at the proclamation of Saint John Henry Newman as a Doctor of the Church. From Heaven, may he accompany Christians on their journey towards full union.

I extend my greetings to all the pilgrims present, especially the young people who have given life to the “Race of the Saints,” promoted by Missioni Don Bosco, which combines sport and solidarity with the most disadvantaged children.

Sisters and brothers, the mystery of the communion of saints, which we breathe in deeply today, reminds us of the final destiny of humanity: a great celebration in which we rejoice together in the love of God, present in all, recognizing and admiring the multifaceted beauty of faces, all different and all resembling the face of Christ. As we anticipate this future reality, we feel even more strongly and painfully how this contrasts with the tragedies that the human family is suffering because of injustice and war. We urgently feel the duty to be builders of fraternity. Let us entrust our prayer and our commitment to the intercession of the Virgin Mary and all the Saints!

01.11.25

Dear brothers and sisters, pilgrims in faith and representatives of the various religious traditions! Good morning, welcome!

At the centre of today’s reflection, in this General Audience dedicated to interreligious dialogue, I would like to place the Lord Jesus’ words to the Samaritan woman: “God is spirit, and those who worship him must worship in spirit and truth” (Jn 4:24). In the Gospel, this encounter reveals the essence of authentic religious dialogue: an exchange that is established when people open up to one another with sincerity, attentive listening and mutual enrichment. It is a dialogue that arose from thirst: God’s thirst for the human heart, and the human thirst for God. At the well of Sychar, Jesus overcomes the barriers of culture, gender and religion. He invites the Samaritan woman to a new understanding of worship, which is not limited to a particular place – “neither on the mountain nor in Jerusalem” – but is realized in Spirit and truth. This moment captures the very core of interreligious dialogue itself: the discovery of God’s presence beyond all boundaries and the invitation to seek him together with reverence and humility.

Sixty years ago, on 28 October 1965, Vatican Council II, with the promulgation of the Declaration Nostra Aetate, opened up a new horizon of encounter, respect and spiritual hospitality. This luminous Document teaches us to meet the followers of other religions not as outsiders, but as travelling companions on the path of truth; to honour differences affirming our common humanity; and to discern, in every sincere religious search, a reflection of the one divine Mystery that embraces all creation.

In particular, it should not be forgotten that the first focus of Nostra Aetate was towards the Jewish world, which which Saint John XXIII intended to re-establish the original relationship. For the first time in the history of the Church, a doctrinal treatise on the Jewish roots of Christianity was to take shape, which on a biblical and theological level would represent a point of no return. A “bond … spiritually ties the people of the New Covenant to Abraham’s stock. Thus the Church of Christ acknowledges that, according to God’s saving design, the beginnings of her faith and her election are found already among the Patriarchs, Moses and the prophets” (Nostra Aetate, 4). In this way, the Church, “mindful of the patrimony she shares with the Jews and moved not by political reasons but by the Gospel’s spiritual love, decries hatred, persecutions, displays of anti-Semitism, directed against Jews at any time and by anyone” (ibid.). Since then, all my predecessors have condemned anti-Semitism with clear words. And so I too confirm that the Church does not tolerate anti-Semitism and fights against it, on the basis of the Gospel itself.

Today we can look with gratitude at everything that has been achieved in Jewish-Catholic dialogue during these six decades. This is due not only to human effort, but to the assistance of our God who, according to Christian conviction, is dialogue itself. We cannot deny that there have been misunderstandings, difficulties and conflicts in this period, but these have never prevented the dialogue from continuing. Even today, we must not allow political circumstances and the injustices of some to divert us from friendship, especially since we have achieved so much so far.

The spirit of Nostra Aetate continues to illuminate the path of the Church. She recognizes that all religions can reflect “a ray of that Truth which enlightens all men” (NA, 2) and seek answers to the great mysteries of human existence, so that dialogue must never be solely intellectual, but profoundly spiritual. The Declaration invites all Catholics – bishops, clergy, consecrated persons and lay faithful – to involve themselves sincerely in dialogue and in collaboration with the followers of other religions, recognizing and promoting all that is good, true and holy in their traditions (cf. ibid.). This is necessary today in practically every city where, due to human mobility, our spiritual and cultural differences are called to encounter one another and to live together fraternally. Nostra Aetate reminds us that true dialogue is rooted in love, the only foundation of peace, justice and reconciliation, whereas it firmly rejects every form of discrimination or persecution, affirming the equal dignity of every human being (cf. NA, 5).

Therefore, dear brothers and sisters, sixty years after Nostra Aetate, we can ask ourselves: what can we do together? The answer is simple: we can act together. More than ever, our world needs our unity, our friendship and our collaboration. Each one of our religions can contribute to alleviating human suffering and taking care of our common home, our planet Earth. Our respective traditions teach truth, compassion, reconciliation, justice and peace. We must reaffirm service to humanity, at all times. Together, we must be vigilant against the abuse of the name of God, of religion, and of dialogue itself, as well as against the dangers posed by religious fundamentalism and extremism. We must also face the responsible development of artificial intelligence because, if conceived as an alternative to humans, it can gravely violate their infinite dignity and neutralize their fundamental responsibilities. Our traditions have an immense contribution to make to the humanization of technology and therefore to inspire its regulation, to protect fundamental human rights.

As we all know, our religions teach that peace begins in the human heart. In this regard, religion can play a fundamental role. We must restore hope to our personal lives, our families, our neighbourhoods, our schools, our villages, our countries and our world. This hope is based on our religious convictions, on the conviction that a new world is possible.

Sixty years ago, Nostra Aetate brought hope to the world after the Second World War. Today we are called upon to rekindle that hope in our world, devastated by war and our degraded natural environment. Let us collaborate, because if we are united, everything is possible. Let us ensure that nothing divides us. And in this spirit, I would like to express once more my gratitude for your presence and your friendship. Let us transmit this spirit of friendship and collaboration to the future generation too, because it is the true pillar on which dialogue rests.

And now, let us pause a moment in silent prayer: prayer has the power to transform our attitudes, our thoughts, our words and our actions.

In recent days Jamaica has been struck by Hurricane Melissa, a storm of catastrophic power, causing violent flooding. It is currently sweeping across Cuba with devastating force. Thousands of people have been displaced, while homes, infrastructure and several hospitals have been damaged. I assure everyone of my closeness, praying for those who have lost their lives, for those who are fleeing and for those populations who, awaiting the storm's developments, are experiencing hours of anxiety and concern. I encourage the civil authorities to do everything possible and I thank the Christian communities, together with voluntary organizations, for the relief they are providing.

I extend a warm welcome to all English speaking pilgrims and visitors taking part in today’s audience, especially those coming from England, Ireland, Norway, Sweden, Ghana, Kenya, Nigeria, Uganda, Zimbabwe, Australia, Indonesia, Malaysia, the Philippines, Singapore, South Korea, Canada and the United States of America.  

In particular, I wish to express my gratitude for the presence of the leaders and representatives of non-Christian religions. 

May God, who created all men and women, pour into our hearts a spirit of fraternal love that we may recognize the imprint of God’s goodness and beauty in every human being.

Lastly, I greet the sick, the newlyweds and the young people. Yesterday the Liturgy commemorated the Holy Apostles Simon and Jude Thaddeus. May their example encourage you, the sick, to always follow Jesus on the path of trial; may it help you, newly-weds, to make your family the place of encounter with the love of God and of your brothers and sisters; may it sustain you, young people, in your commitment to fidelity to Christ. 

29.10.25

Dear brothers and sisters,

To gather in this place during the Jubilee Year is a gift that we must not take for granted. Above all, it is a gift because to go on a pilgrimage, to pass through the Holy Door, reminds us that life makes sense only when it is lived as a journey, when it knows how to keep moving forward, that is, when it is capable of making the reality of Easter present.

It is good, then, to think how the Church, through celebrating the Jubilee in these months, has been remembering that she constantly needs to undergo conversion and that she must always walk behind Jesus without hesitation and without the temptation to move on ahead of him. Indeed, she is always in need of Easter, that is, of “passing over” from slavery to freedom, from death to life. I hope that all of you experience within yourselves the gift of this hope, and that the Jubilee may be an opportunity through which your lives can begin anew.

Today, I would like to address you who are part of university institutions and all those who, in various ways, dedicate themselves to study, teaching and research. What is the grace that can touch the life of a student, a researcher, a scholar? I would respond in this way: it is the grace of an overarching vision, a perspective capable of grasping the horizon, of looking beyond.

We can see this insight in the Gospel passage just proclaimed (Lk 13:10-17), which presents the picture of a woman who was bent double and, healed by Jesus, can finally receive the grace of a new perspective, a broader vision. This woman’s condition resembles the condition of ignorance, which is often linked to being closed in on ourselves and lacking spiritual and intellectual restlessness. She is bent double, turned in on herself, and thus unable to look beyond herself. When human beings are incapable of seeing beyond themselves, beyond their own experiences, ideas and convictions, beyond their own projects, then they remain imprisoned, enslaved and incapable of forming mature judgements.

Like the bent-over woman of the Gospel, the risk is always that of remaining prisoners of our self-centered perspective. Yet, in reality, many of the things that truly matter in life – we might say, the most fundamental things – do not come from ourselves; we receive them from others. They come to us through our teachers, encounters and life experiences. This is an experience of grace, for it heals us from self-absorption. This is a genuine healing that, just as for the woman in the Gospel, allows us once again to stand upright before life and its reality, and to look at them with a wider perspective. The healed woman receives hope, for she can finally lift her eyes and see something different, can see in a new way. This especially happens when we encounter Christ in our lives, when we open ourselves up to a life-changing truth capable of making us step out of ourselves and freeing us from our self-absorption.

Those who study are “lifted up,” broadening their horizons and perspectives in order to recover a vision that does not look downward, but is capable of looking upward: toward God, others and the mystery of life. Indeed, the grace of being a student, researcher or scholar means accepting a broad vision that can see far into the distance; that does not simplify problems nor fear questions; that overcomes intellectual laziness and, in doing so, also defeats spiritual decay.

Let us always remember that spirituality needs this perspective, to which the study of theology, philosophy and the other disciplines contribute in a particular way. Today, we have become experts in the smallest details of reality, yet we have lost the capability of an overarching vision that integrates things through a deeper and greater meaning. The Christian experience, however, wishes to teach us to look at life and reality with a unified gaze, capable of embracing everything while rejecting merely partial ways of thinking.

I thus urge you, students, researchers and teachers alike, not to forget that the Church needs this unified perspective for both today and tomorrow. We can look to the example of men and women such as Augustine, Thomas Aquinas, Teresa of Avila, Edith Stein and many others who knew how to integrate research into their lives and spiritual journey. We likewise are called to advance in our intellectual endeavors and the search for truth without separating them from life. It is important to cultivate this unity so that what happens in university classrooms and educational environments of all kinds does not remain an abstract intellectual exercise. Instead, it becomes capable of transforming life, and helps us to deepen our relationship with Christ, to understand better the mystery of the Church, and makes us bold witnesses of the Gospel in society.

Dearest friends, study, research and teaching bring with them an important educational responsibility, and I wish to encourage universities to embrace this calling with passion and commitment. To educate is similar to the miracle recounted in today’s Gospel, for the activity of the educator is to lift people up, helping them become themselves and able to develop informed consciences and the capacity for critical thinking. Pontifical universities must be able to continue this “activity” of Jesus. This is a true act of love, for it is a form of charity expressed through study, knowledge and the sincere search for what is true and worth living for. To feed the hunger for truth and meaning is an essential task, since without them we would fall into emptiness and even succumb to death.

On this journey, each of us can also rediscover the greatest gift of all, which is to know that we are not alone and that we belong to someone, as the Apostle Paul affirms: “For all who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God. For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption. When we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’…” (Rom 8:14-15). Indeed, what we receive while we are searching for the truth and devoting ourselves to study helps us to discover that we are not creatures cast by chance into the world, but that we belong to someone who loves us and who has a plan of love for our lives.

Dear brothers and sisters, together with you I ask the Lord that the experience of study and research during your university years may render you capable of this new perspective. May your academic journey help you to know how to speak, narrate, deepen and proclaim the reasons for the hope that is in us (cf. 1 Pet 3:15). May the university form you to be men and women who are never bent in on themselves but always upright, capable of bringing the joy and consolation of the Gospel wherever you go.

May the Virgin Mary, Seat of Wisdom, accompany and intercede for you.

27.10.25 ec

Dear brothers and sisters, happy Sunday!

Today’s Gospel (cf. Lk 18:9-14) presents two individuals, a Pharisee and a tax collector, who are praying in the Temple.

The first boasts a long list of merits. He has done many good works, and for this reason he feels superior to others, whom he judges contemptuously. He stands with his head held high. His attitude is clearly presumptuous, denoting a strict observance of the law, but one that is poor in love, made up of “giving” and “taking,” of debts and credits, devoid of mercy.

The tax collector is also praying, but in a very different way. He is in great need of forgiveness: he is a tax collector paid by the Roman Empire, and he works under a contract that allows him to speculate on the proceeds to the detriment of his own countrymen. Yet, at the end of the parable, Jesus tells us that it is the tax collector who returns home “justified,” that is, forgiven and renewed by his encounter with God. Why?

First, the tax collector had the courage and humility to present himself before God. He did not close himself off in his own world or resign himself to the evil he has done. He left the places where he was feared, safe and protected by the power he wielded over others. He went to the Temple alone, without an escort, even at the cost of facing harsh glances and sharp judgments, and he stood before the Lord, at the back, with his head bowed, uttering a few words: “God, be merciful to me a sinner” (v. 13).

Jesus gives us a powerful message: it is not by flaunting our merits that we are saved, nor by hiding our mistakes, but by presenting ourselves honestly, just as we are, before God, ourselves and others, asking for forgiveness and entrusting ourselves to the Lord’s grace.

Commenting on this passage, Saint Augustine compares the Pharisee to a sick man who, out of shame and pride, hides his wounds from the doctor.  The tax collector is compared to another who, with humility and wisdom, lays bare his wounds before the doctor, however unpleasant they may be to look at, and asks for help. The saint concludes: “It is not surprising that it was the tax-collector… who went away cured, since he had not been ashamed of showing where he felt pain” (Sermo 351,1).

Dear brothers and sisters, let us do the same. Let us not be afraid to acknowledge our mistakes, lay them bare, take responsibility for them and entrust them to God’s mercy. That way, his Kingdom — which belongs not to the proud but to the humble and is built through prayer and action, by practicing honesty, forgiveness and gratitude — can grow in us and around us.

Let us ask Mary, the model of holiness, to help us grow in these virtues.

I express my heartfelt closeness to the people of eastern Mexico, which in recent days was hit by flooding. I pray for the families and for all who are suffering because of this calamity, and I entrust to the Lord, through the intercession of the Blessed Virgin, the souls of the deceased.

Our prayer for peace continues unceasingly, particularly through the communal recitation of the Holy Rosary. As we contemplate the mysteries of Christ together with the Virgin Mary, we make our own the suffering and the hope of the children, the mothers, the fathers, and the elderly who are victims of war. And from this heartfelt intercession arise many gestures of evangelical charity, concrete closeness, and solidarity. To all who, each day, carry forward this commitment with trusting perseverance, I say once again: “Blessed are the peacemakers!”

Thank you all! Have a pleasant Sunday!

26.10.25 a

Brothers and Sisters,

As we celebrate the Jubilee of the Synodal Teams and Participatory Bodies, we are invited to contemplate and rediscover the mystery of the Church. She is not merely a religious institution, nor is she simply identified with hierarchies and structures. The Second Vatican Council reminds us that the Church is the visible sign of the union between God and humanity, where God intends to bring us all together into one family of brothers and sisters and make us his people: a people made up of beloved children, all united in the one embrace of his love.

Contemplating the mystery of ecclesial communion, generated and preserved by the Holy Spirit, we can also understand the meaning of synodal teams and participatory bodies. They express what occurs within the Church, where relationships do not respond to the logic of power but to that of love. The former – to recall a constant warning from Pope Francis – is a “worldly” logic.  Conversely, in the Christian community, primacy belongs to the spiritual life, which reveals to us that we are all children of God, brothers and sisters, called to serve one another.

The supreme rule in the Church is love. No one is called to dominate; all are called to serve. No one should impose his or her own ideas; we must all listen to one another. No one is excluded; we are all called to participate. No one possesses the whole truth; we must all humbly seek it and seek it together.

The very word “together” expresses the call to communion in the Church. Pope Francis reminded us of this in his final Message for Lent: “…to journey together. The Church is called to walk together, to be synodal. Christians are called to walk at the side of others, and never as lone travellers. The Holy Spirit impels us not to remain self-absorbed, but to leave ourselves behind and keep walking towards God and our brothers and sisters. Journeying together means consolidating the unity grounded in our common dignity as children of God” (Message for Lent, 25 February 2025).

Walking together: this is apparently what the two characters neglect to do in the parable we have just heard in the Gospel. Both the Pharisee and the tax collector go up to the Temple to pray. We could say that they “go up together” or, at least, they find themselves together in the sacred place. Yet they are divided; and there is no communication between them. Both take the same path, but they do not walk together. Both are in the Temple; but one takes the first place, and the other remains behind. Both pray to the Father, but without being brothers and without having anything in common.

This division depends above all on the Pharisee’s attitude. His prayer, though seemingly addressed to God, is only a mirror in which he looks at, justifies and praises himself. As Saint Augustine writes, he “went up to pray: he had no mind to pray to God, but to laud himself” (Discourse 115, 2). Feeling superior, he judges the other with contempt and looks down on him. The Pharisee is obsessed with his own ego and, in this way, ends up focused on himself without having a relationship with either God or others.

Brothers and sisters, this can also happen in the Christian community. It happens when the ego prevails over the collective, causing an individualism that prevents authentic and fraternal relationships. It also occurs when the claim to be better than others, as the Pharisee does with the tax collector, creates division and turns the community into a judgmental and exclusionary place; and when one leverages one’s role to exert power, rather than to serve.

We should, however, focus our attention on the tax collector. With the same humility that he showed, we too must recognize within the Church that we are all in need of God and of one another, which leads us to practice reciprocal love, listen to each other and enjoy walking together. It is based on the knowledge that Christ belongs to those who are humble, not to those who elevate themselves above the flock (cf. Saint Clement of Rome, Letter to the Corinthians, c. XVI).

The synodal teams and participatory bodies are an image of this Church that lives in communion. Please trust me when I tell you that by listening to the Spirit in dialogue, fraternity and parrhesia, you will help us to understand that, prior to any differences, we are called in the Church to walk together in the pursuit of God. By clothing ourselves with the sentiments of Christ, we expand the ecclesial space so that it becomes collegial and welcoming.

This will enable us to live with confidence and a new spirit amid the tensions that run through the life of the Church: between unity and diversity, tradition and novelty, authority and participation. We must allow the Spirit to transform them, so that they do not become ideological contrapositions and harmful polarizations. It is not a question of resolving them by reducing one to the other, but of allowing them to be purified by the Spirit, so that they may be harmonized and oriented toward a common discernment. As synodal teams and members of participatory bodies, you know that ecclesial discernment requires “interior freedom, humility, prayer, mutual trust, an openness to the new and a surrender to the will of God. It is never just a setting out of one’s own personal or group point of view or a summing up of differing individual opinions” (Final Document, 26 October 2024, 82). Being a synodal Church means recognizing that truth is not possessed, but sought together, allowing ourselves to be guided by a restless heart in love with Love.

Dear friends, we must dream of and build a more humble Church; a Church that does not stand upright like the Pharisee, triumphant and inflated with pride, but bends down to wash the feet of humanity; a Church that does not judge as the Pharisee does the tax collector, but becomes a welcoming place for all; a Church that does not close in on itself, but remains attentive to God so that it can similarly listen to everyone. Let us commit ourselves to building a Church that is entirely synodal, ministerial and attracted to Christ and therefore committed to serving the world.

Upon all of us, and the Church spread throughout the world, I invoke the intercession of the Virgin Mary with the words of the Servant of God Don Tonino Bello: “Holy Mary, woman of conviviality, nourish in our Churches the desire for communion ... Help them to overcome internal divisions. Intervene when the demon of discord creeps into their midst. Extinguish the fires of factionalism.  Reconcile mutual disputes. Defuse their rivalries. Stop them when they decide to go their own way, neglecting convergence on common projects” (Maria, Donna dei Nostri Giorni, 99).

May the Lord grant us this grace: to be rooted in God’s love so that we may live in communion with one another and be, as a Church, witnesses of unity and love.

26.10.25 m

 Dear brothers and sisters, good morning! And welcome to you all!

The resurrection of Jesus Christ is an event that one never finishes contemplating and meditating on, and the more one explores it, the more one is filled with wonder, drawn in as if by an overwhelming yet fascinating light. It was an explosion of life and joy that changed the meaning of reality itself, from negative to positive; yet it did not happen in a striking way, much less a violent one, but gently, hidden, one might say humbly.

Today we will reflect on how Christ’s resurrection can heal one of the malaises of our time: sadness. Intrusive and widespread, sadness accompanies the days of many people. It is a feeling of precariousness, at times profound desperation, which invades one’s inner space and seems to prevail over any impetus to joy.

Sadness robs life of meaning and vigour, turning it into a directionless and meaningless journey. This very current experience reminds us of the famous account in the Gospel of Luke (24: 13-29) of the two disciples of Emmaus. Disappointed and discouraged, they leave Jerusalem, leaving behind the hopes they held in Jesus, who has been crucified and entombed. In the opening lines, this episode presents a paradigm of human sadness: the end of the objective to which so much energy has been invested, the destruction of what seemed to be the essence of their lives. Their hope is dashed; desolation has taken hold of their hearts. Everything has imploded in a very short space of time, between Friday and Saturday, in a dramatic sequence of events.

The paradox is truly emblematic: this sad journey of defeat and return to ordinary life occurs on the same day as the victory of light, of the Pasch that has been fully consummated. The two men turn their backs on Golgotha, on the terrible scene of the cross, still imprinted on their eyes and their hearts. It seems that all is lost. They must return to their former lives, keeping a low profile and hoping not to be recognized.

At a certain point, a traveller joins the two disciples, perhaps one of the many pilgrims who have been to Jerusalem for Easter. It is the risen Jesus, but they do not recognize him. Sadness clouds their gaze, erasing the promise that the Master had made several times: that he would be killed and that on the third day he would rise again. The stranger approaches and shows interest in what they are saying. The text says that the two “stood still, looking sad” (Lk 24:17). The Greek adjective used describes an all-encompassing sadness: the paralysis of the soul is apparent on their faces.

Jesus listens to them, allowing them to unburden their disappointment. Then, with great frankness, he rebukes them for being “foolish … and slow of heart to believe that all the prophets have declared!” (v. 25), and through the Scriptures he shows that Christ had to suffer, die and rise again. The warmth of hope is rekindled in the hearts of the two disciples, and then, when night falls and they arrive at their destination, they invite their mysterious travelling companion to stay with them.

Jesus accepts, and takes his seat at the table with them. Then he takes the bread, breaks it and offers it. At that moment, the two disciples recognize him… but he immediately disappears from their view (vv. 30-31). The gesture of the breaking of the bread reopens the eyes of the heart, illuminating once again the vision clouded by despair. And then everything becomes clear: the shared journey, the tender and powerful word, the light of truth... Immediately, joy is rekindled, energy flows back into their weary limbs, and gratitude returns to their memory. And the two hurry back to Jerusalem to tell the others everything.

“The Lord has risen indeed” (cf. v. 34). In this adverb, indeed, the certain outcome of our history as human beings is fulfilled. It is no coincidence that this is the greeting Christians exchange on Easter Day. Jesus did not rise in words, but in deeds, with his body bearing the marks of his passion, a perennial seal of his love for us. The victory of life is not an empty word, but a real, tangible fact.

May the unexpected joy of the disciples of Emmaus be a gentle reminder to us when the going gets tough. It is the Risen One who radically changes our perspective, instilling the hope that fills the void of sadness. On the paths of the heart, the Risen One walks with us and for us. He bears witness to the defeat of death and affirms the victory of life, despite the darkness of Calvary. History still has much goodness to hope for.

To recognize the Resurrection means to change one’s outlook on the world: to return to the light to recognize the Truth that has saved us, and that saves us. Sisters and brothers, let us remain watchful every day in the wonder of the Pasch of the risen Jesus. He alone makes the impossible possible!

I extend a warm welcome to the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors taking part in today’s Audience, especially those coming from England, Scotland, Denmark, Finland, the Netherlands, Burundi, Ghana, Nigeria, Uganda, Australia, Bahrain, India, Indonesia, Japan, Malaysia, Pakistan, the Philippines, Taiwan, Thailand, Saudi Arabia, Vietnam, Antigua and Barbuda, Canada and the United States of America. In particular, I greet and thank the group “Friends of the Holy Father” from Great Britain who donated the portable studio for the use of Vatican News Services. It is my hope that the Jubilee will continue to be for all of you a season of spiritual renewal and growth in the joy of the Gospel. Upon you and your families I gladly invoke God’s blessings of wisdom, strength and peace.

Lastly, I greet the sick, the newlyweds and the young people. Dear friends, the month of October invites us to renew our active cooperation in the Church's mission. With the power of prayer, with the potential of married life and with the fresh energies of youth, may you know how to be missionaries of the Gospel, offering your concrete support to those who dedicate their lives to the evangelization of peoples.

My blessing to you all!

22.10.25

Dear brothers and sisters,

I extend my heartfelt greetings to all of you who have taken part in this celebration, which has been a great feast of holiness!

I thank the Cardinals, Patriarchs and Bishops who are present. I also greet with gratitude the President of the Italian Republic, the President of Lebanon and the distinguished official delegations, in particular those from Armenia and Venezuela.

I joyfully welcome the spiritual daughters of the Foundresses who have been canonized today and the various communities and associations inspired by the charisms of the new Saints. Thank you all for your devout participation!

I extend my greetings to the other pilgrims present, in particular to the Hermandad del Señor de los Milagros, which celebrated the traditional procession.

Today is World Mission Day. While the whole Church is missionary, today we pray especially for those men and women who have left everything to bring the Gospel to those who do not know it. They are missionaries of hope among all peoples. May the Lord bless them!

The news from Myanmar is sadly distressing: there are reports of ongoing armed clashes and aerial bombardments, including the targeting of civilians and civilian infrastructure. I am spiritually close to those who are suffering as a result of the violence, insecurity and many hardships. I renew my heartfelt appeal for an immediate and effective ceasefire. May the instruments of war give way to those of peace, through inclusive and constructive dialogue.

Let us entrust to the intercession of the Virgin Mary and the new Saints our constant prayer for peace in the Holy Land, Ukraine and other places affected by war. May God grant all their leaders the wisdom and perseverance to advance in the search for a just and lasting peace.

19.10.25 a

Holy Mass and canonisation of the Blessed:

- Ignazio Choukrallah Maloyan
- Peter To Rot
- Vincenza Maria Poloni
- Maria del Monte Carmelo Rendiles Martínez
- Maria Troncatti
- José Gregorio Hernández Cisneros
- Bartolo Longo

Dear brothers and sisters,

Let us begin our reflection with the question that concludes the Gospel just proclaimed: “When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?” (Lk 18:8). This question reveals to us what is most precious in the Lord’s eyes: faith, namely, the bond of love between God and man. Today we have before us seven witnesses, the new Saints, who, with God’s grace, kept the lamp of faith burning. Indeed, they themselves became lamps capable of spreading the light of Christ.

When we consider the great material, cultural, scientific and artistic treasures, faith shines not because these goods are to be undervalued, but because without faith they lose their meaning. Our relationship with God is of the utmost importance because at the beginning of time he created all things out of nothing and, at the end of time, he will save mortal beings from nothingness. A world without faith, then, would be populated by children living without a Father, that is, by creatures without salvation.

For this reason, Jesus, the Son of God made man, asks about faith: if it disappeared from the world, what would happen? Heaven and earth would remain as before, but there would no longer be hope in our hearts; everyone’s freedom would be defeated by death; our desire for life would fade into nothingness. Without faith in God, we cannot hope for salvation. Jesus’ question can disturb us, but only if we forget that it is Jesus himself who poses it. The Lord’s words, in fact, are always the “Gospel,” the joyful proclamation of salvation. This salvation is the gift of eternal life that we receive from the Father, through the Son, in the power of the Holy Spirit.

Dear friends, this is precisely why Christ speaks to his disciples of the “need to pray always, and not to lose heart” (Lk 18:1). Just as we never grow weary of breathing, so let us never grow weary of praying! Just as breathing sustains the life of the body, so prayer sustains the life of the soul: faith, in fact, is expressed in prayer, and authentic prayer lives on faith.

Jesus shows us this connection with a parable: a judge remains deaf to the pressing requests of a widow, whose perseverance finally leads him to act. At a glance, such tenacity becomes for us a beautiful example of hope, especially in times of trial and tribulation. Nevertheless, the woman’s perseverance and the judge, who acts reluctantly, set the stage for a provocative question from Jesus: Will not God, the good Father, “grant justice to his chosen ones who cry to him day and night?” (Lk 18:7).

Let us allow these words to resonate in our hearts: the Lord is asking us whether we believe that God is a just judge towards all. The Son asks us if we believe that the Father always wants our good and the salvation of every person. In this regard, two temptations test our faith: the first draws strength from the scandal of evil, leading us to think that God does not hear the cries of the oppressed and has no pity for the innocent who suffer. The second temptation is the claim that God must act as we want him to: prayer then gives way to a command to God, to teach him how to be just and effective.

Jesus, the perfect witness of filial trust, frees us from both temptations. He is the innocent one who, especially during his Passion, prays thus: “Father, your will be done” (cf. Lk 22:42). The Master gives us these same words in the Our Father. Let us remember that whatever happens to us, Jesus entrusted himself as Son to the Father. We are, therefore, brothers and sisters in his name, so we can proclaim: “It is truly right and just, our duty and our salvation, always and everywhere to give you thanks, Lord, holy Father, almighty and eternal God, through Christ our Lord” (Eucharistic Prayer II, Preface).

The Church’s prayer reminds us that God grants justice to all, giving his life for all. Thus, when we cry out to the Lord, “Where are you?”, let us transform this invocation into a prayer, and then we we will recognize that God is present where the innocent suffer. The cross of Christ reveals God’s justice, and God’s justice is forgiveness. He sees evil and redeems it by taking it upon himself. When we are “crucified” by pain and violence, by hatred and war, Christ is already there, on the cross for us and with us. There is no cry that God does not console; there is no tear that is far from his heart. The Lord listens to us, embraces us as we are, and transforms us as he is. Those who reject God’s mercy, however, remain incapable of mercy towards their neighbor. Those who do not welcome peace as a gift will not know how to give peace.

Dear friends, we now understand that Jesus’ questions are a powerful invitation to hope and action: when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith in God’s providence? Indeed, it is this faith that sustains our commitment to justice, precisely because we believe that God saves the world out of love, freeing us from fatalism. When we hear the cries of those in difficulty, let us ask ourselves, are we witnesses to the Father’s love, as Christ was to all? He is the humble one who calls the arrogant to conversion, the just one who makes us just. We see all this in the lives of the new Saints: they are not heroes or champions of some ideal, but authentic men and women.

These faithful friends of Christ are martyrs for their faith, like Bishop Ignazio Choukrallah Maloyan and catechist Peter To Rot; they are evangelizers and missionaries, like Sister Maria Troncatti; they are charismatic founders, like Sister Vincenza Maria Poloni and Sister Maria del Monte Carmelo Rendiles Martínez; with their hearts burning with devotion, they are benefactors of humanity, like Bartolo Longo and José Gregorio Hernández Cisneros. May their intercession assist us in our trials and their example inspire us in our shared vocation to holiness. As we journey towards this goal, let us pray  without ceasing, and continue in what we have  learned and firmly believe (cf. 2 Tim 3:14). Faith on earth thus sustains the hope for heaven.

19.10.25 m

Dear brothers and sisters, good morning!

In the Jubilee Year catecheses, until now, we have retraced the life of Jesus, following the Gospels, from his birth to his death and resurrection. In so doing, our pilgrimage of hope has found is solid foundation, its sure way. Now, in the last part of the journey, we will allow the mystery of Christ, which culminates in the Resurrection, to radiate its light of salvation in contact with the current human and historical reality, with its questions and challenges.

Our lives are marked by countless events, full of different nuances and experiences. At times we feel joyful, other times sad, other times fulfilled or stressed, gratified or demotivated. We live busy lives, we concentrate on achieving results, and we even attain lofty, prestigious goals. Conversely, we remain suspended, precarious, awaiting success and recognition that are delayed or do not arrive at all. In short, we find ourselves experiencing a paradoxical situation: we would like to be happy, and yet it is very difficult to be happy in a continuous way, without any shadows. We come to terms with our limitations and, at the same time, with the irrepressible urge to try to overcome them. We feel deep down that we are always missing something.

In truth, we were not created for lack, but for fullness, to rejoice in life, and life in abundance, according to Jesus’ expression in the Gospel of John (cf. 10:10).

This deep desire in our hearts can find its ultimate answer not in roles, not in power, not in having, but in the certainty that there is someone who guarantees this constitutive impulse of our humanity; in the awareness that this expectation will not be disappointed or thwarted. This certainty coincides with hope. This does not mean thinking in an optimistic way: often optimism lets us down, causing our expectations to implode, whereas hope promises and fulfils.

Sisters and brothers, the Risen Jesus is the guarantee of this deliverance! He is the wellspring that satisfies our thirst, the infinite thirst for fullness that the Holy Spirit imbues into our hearts. Indeed, the Resurrection of Christ is not a simple event of human history, but the event that transformed it from within.

Let us think about a source of water. What are its characteristics? It quenches thirst and refreshes creatures, irrigates the land, renders fertile and living what would otherwise remain barren. It gives refreshment to the weary traveller, offering him the joy of an oasis of freshness. A wellspring appears as a freely-given gift for nature, for creatures, for human beings. Without water it is not possible to live.

The Risen One is the living wellspring that does not dry up and does not change. It always stays pure and ready for anyone who is thirsty. And the more we taste the mystery of God, the more we are attracted to it, without ever becoming completely satiated. Saint Augustine, in the tenth Book of the Confessions, captures exactly this inexhaustible longing of our hearts and expresses it in his famous Hymn to Beauty: “You exhaled odours, and I drew in my breath and do pant after you. I tasted, and do hunger and thirst. You touched me, and I burned for your peace” (X, 27, 38).

Jesus, with his Resurrection, has guaranteed for us a permanent source of life: he is the living one (cf. Rev 1:18), the lover of life, the victor over all death. Therefore, he is able to offer us refreshment in our earthly journey and assure us of perfect peace in eternity. Only Jesus, who died and rose again, responds to the deepest questions of our heart: is there really a destination for us? Does our existence have any meaning? And the suffering of so many innocents, how can it be redeemed?

The Risen Jesus does not bestow upon us an answer “from above”, but becomes our companion on this often arduous, painful and mysterious journey. Only He can fill our empty flask when our thirst becomes unbearable.

And he is also the destination of our journey. Without his love, the voyage of life would become wandering without a goal, a tragic mistake with a missed destination. We are fragile creatures. Mistakes are part of our humanity; it is the wound of sin that makes us fall, give up, despair. To rise again instead means to get up and stand on our feet. The Risen One guarantees our arrival, leading us home, where we are awaited, loved, saved. To journey with him means to experience being sustained despite everything, to have our thirst quenched and to be refreshed in the hardships and struggles that, like heavy stones, threaten to block or divert our history.

Dear friends, from Christ’s Resurrection springs the hope that gives us a foretaste, despite the fatigue of living, of a deep and joyful calm: that peace the only he can give us in the end, without end.

I am happy to welcome this morning the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors, especially those from England, Wales, Ireland, Malta, Norway, Uganda, Australia, New Zealand, China, Indonesia, Malaysia, the Philippines, Taiwan, 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 all of you the joy and the peace of Our Lord Jesus Christ.

15.10.25

Dear brothers and sisters, before concluding the celebration, I would like to extend my warm greetings to all of you who have gathered here to pray in this great “cenacle” together with Mary, the Mother of Jesus. You represent the wide range of associations, movements and communities that are inspired by Marian devotion, which is proper to every Christian. I thank you and urge you always to base your spirituality on Sacred Scripture and the Tradition of the Church.

I greet all the groups of pilgrims, in particular the Augustinian laity of Italy and the Secular Order of Discalced Carmelites.

In recent days, the agreement to begin the peace process has given a spark of hope in the Holy Land. I encourage the parties involved to continue courageously on the path they have chosen, towards a just and lasting peace that respects the legitimate aspirations of the Israeli and Palestinian peoples. Two years of conflict have caused death and destruction throughout the land, especially in the hearts of those who have brutally lost their children, parents, friends and possessions. With the entire Church, I am close to your immense pain. The gentle touch of the Lord is directed especially toward you today, in the certainty that even amidst the deepest darkness, he always remains with us: “Dilexi te, I have loved you.” We ask God, who is the true Peace of humanity, to heal all wounds and to help us with his grace to accomplish what now seems humanly impossible: to remember that the other is not an enemy, but a brother or sister to be seen, forgiven and offered the hope of reconciliation.

With sorrow, I have followed the news of the recent violent attacks that struck several cities and civilian infrastructure in Ukraine, causing the death of innocent people, including children, and leaving many families without electricity and heating. My heart goes out to those who suffer, who have been living in anguish and deprivation for years. I renew my appeal to put an end to violence, to stop destruction, to open up to dialogue and peace!

I am close to the dear people of Peru at this time of political transition. I pray that Peru may continue on the path of reconciliation, dialogue and national unity.

Today in Italy, we remember the victims of workplace accidents: let us pray for them and for the safety of all workers.

And now let us turn to Mary with filial trust.

12.10.25 a

Dear sisters and brothers,

The Apostle Paul exhorts each of us today, as he did to Timothy: “Remember Jesus Christ, raised from the dead, a descendant of David” (2 Tim 2:8).  Marian spirituality, which nourishes our faith, has Jesus as its center.  It is like Sunday, which opens each new week in the radiance of his Resurrection from the dead.  “Remember Jesus Christ”: this alone matters; this is what distinguishes human spiritualities from the way of God.  “Chained like a criminal,” (v. 9) Paul urges us not to lose sight of what is essential, and not to strip the name of Jesus of its history and of its cross.  What we consider inordinate and crucify, God raises up because “he cannot deny himself” (v. 13).  Jesus is God’s faithfulness, God’s faithfulness to himself.  The celebration of Sunday, therefore, should make us Christians.  It should fill our thoughts and feelings with the burning memory of Jesus and change the way we live together and the way we inhabit the earth.  Every Christian spirituality flows from this fire and helps to keep it alive.

The reading from the Second Book of Kings (5:14-17) recounts the healing of Naaman, the Syrian.  Jesus himself referred to this passage when he was in the synagogue in Nazareth (cf. Lk 4:27), and his interpretation had a disconcerting effect on the people of his hometown.  To say that God had saved a foreigner suffering from leprosy rather than the many lepers in Israel turned them against him: “When they heard this, all in the synagogue were filled with rage.  They got up, drove him out of the town, and led him to the brow of the hill on which their town was built, so that they might hurl him off the cliff” (Lk 4:28-29).  The Evangelist makes no mention of the presence of Mary.  She may have been present to witness what the elderly Simeon had announced to her when she brought the newborn Jesus to the Temple: “This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed — and a sword will pierce your own soul too’” (Lk 2:34-35).

Yes, dear friends, “the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing until it divides soul from spirit, joints from marrow; it is able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart” ( Heb 4:12).   Pope Francis found the story of Naaman the Syrian to be a relevant and penetrating message for the life of the Church.  Speaking to the Roman Curia, he said: “Naaman was forced to live with a tragic situation: he had leprosy.  His armor, that had won him renown, in reality covered a frail, wounded and diseased humanity. We often find this contradiction in our lives: sometimes great gifts are the armor that covers great frailties. [...]If Naaman had continued only to accumulate medals to decorate his armor, in the end he would have been devoured by his leprosy: appearing to be alive, yet enclosed and isolated in his disease.” [1]  Jesus frees us from this danger.  He does not wear armor; instead he is born and dies naked.  He offers his gift without forcing the healed lepers to acknowledge him: only a Samaritan in the Gospel seems to realize that he had been saved (cf. Lk 17:11-19).  Perhaps the fewer titles we have to boast of, the clearer it is that love is free.  God is pure gift and sheer grace.  Yet how many voices and convictions can separate us even today from this stark and revolutionary truth!

Brothers and sisters, Marian spirituality is at the service of the Gospel: it reveals its simplicity.  Our affection for Mary of Nazareth leads us to join her in becoming disciples of Jesus.  It teaches us to return to him and to meditate and ponder the events of our lives in which the Risen One still comes to us and calls us. Marian spirituality immerses us in the history upon which heaven opened.  It helps us to see the proud being scattered in their conceit, the mighty being cast down from their thrones and the rich being sent away empty-handed.  It impels us to fill the hungry with good things, to lift up the lowly, to remember God’s mercy and to trust in the power of his arm (cf. Lk 1:51-54).  Jesus invites us to be part of his Kingdom, just as he asked Mary for her “yes,” which, once given, was renewed every day.

The lepers in the Gospel who do not return to give thanks remind us that God’s grace can touch us and find no response.  It can heal us, yet we can still fail to accept it.  Let us take care therefore not to go up to the temple in such a way that does not lead us to follow Jesus.  Some forms of worship do not foster communion with others and can numb our hearts.  In these cases, we fail to encounter the people God has placed in our lives.  We fail to contribute, as Mary did, to changing the world, and to share in the joy of the Magnificat.  Let us take care to avoid any exploitation of the faith that could lead to labelling those who are different — often the poor — as enemies, “lepers” to be avoided and rejected.

Mary’s path follows that of Jesus, which leads us to encounter every human being, especially the poor, the wounded and sinners.  Because of this, authentic Marian spirituality brings God’s tenderness, his way of “being a mother,” to light in the Church.  As we read in the Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii Gaudium, “whenever we look to Mary, we come to believe once again in the revolutionary nature of love and tenderness.  In her, we see that humility and tenderness are not virtues of the weak but of the strong who need not treat others poorly in order to feel important themselves.  Contemplating Mary, we realize that she who praised God for ‘bringing down the mighty from their thrones’ and ‘sending the rich away empty’ (Lk 1:52-53) is also the one who brings a homely warmth to our pursuit of justice” (no. 288).

Dear friends, in a world seeking justice and peace, let us revive Christian spirituality and popular devotion to the events and places blessed by God that have changed the face of the earth forever.  Let us use them as a driving force for renewal and transformation.  Indeed, the Jubilee we are celebrating calls for a time of conversion and restitution, of reflection and liberation.  May Mary Most Holy, our hope, intercede for us and continue to lead us to Jesus, the crucified Lord.  In him, there is salvation for all.

[1]  Address to the Roman Curia, 23 December 2021.

12.10.25 m

APOSTOLIC EXHORTATION

DILEXI TE

(I HAVE LOVED YOU)

 OF THE HOLY FATHER 

LEO XIV

TO ALL CHRISTIANS

 ON LOVE FOR THE POOR

Excerpt below, for the full transcript click on  DILEXI TE above

1. “I HAVE LOVED YOU” (Rev 3:9). The Lord speaks these words to a Christian community that, unlike some others, had no influence or resources, and was treated instead with violence and contempt: “You have but little power… I will make them come and bow down before your feet” (Rev 3:8-9). This text reminds us of the words of the canticle of Mary: “He has cast down the mighty from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty” (Lk 1:52-53).

2. This declaration of love, taken from the Book of Revelation, reflects the inexhaustible mystery that Pope Francis reflected upon in the Encyclical Dilexit Nos on the human and divine love of the heart of Jesus Christ. There we saw how Jesus identified himself “with the lowest ranks of society” and how, with his love poured out to the end, he confirms the dignity of every human being, especially when “they are weak, scorned, or suffering.”  As we contemplate Christ’s love, “we too are inspired to be more attentive to the sufferings and needs of others, and confirmed in our efforts to share in his work of liberation as instruments for the spread of his love.” 

3. For this reason, in continuity with the Encyclical Dilexit Nos, Pope Francis was preparing in the last months of his life an Apostolic Exhortation on the Church’s care for the poor, to which he gave the title Dilexi Te, as if Christ speaks those words to each of them, saying: “You have but little power,” yet “I have loved you” ( Rev 3:9). I am happy to make this document my own — adding some reflections — and to issue it at the beginning of my own pontificate, since I share the desire of my beloved predecessor that all Christians come to appreciate the close connection between Christ’s love and his summons to care for the poor. I too consider it essential to insist on this path to holiness, for “in this call to recognize him in the poor and the suffering, we see revealed the very heart of Christ, his deepest feelings and choices, which every saint seeks to imitate.” 

09.10.25

“Ask, and it will be given you; seek, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you” (Lk 11:9). With these words, Jesus invites us to turn with trust to the Father for all our needs.

These are also the words we listen to as you gather from all over the world to celebrate the Jubilee of Consecrated Life. As men and women religious, monks, nuns and contemplatives, members of secular institutes and of the Ordo virginum, hermits, and those belonging to “new institutes,” you have come to Rome to undertake the Jubilee Pilgrimage together. You have come to entrust your lives to the same mercy to which, through your religious profession, you once committed yourselves to bear witness, because living out your vows means abandoning yourselves like children into the arms of the Father.

“To ask,” “to seek” and “to knock.” These expressions of prayer, mentioned by the evangelist Luke, are attitudes that are familiar to you. Through living out the evangelical counsels, you are accustomed to asking without demanding, always docile to God’s action. It is no coincidence that the Second Vatican Council speaks of vows as a useful means of “deriving more abundant fruit from baptismal grace” (Lumen Gentium, 44). “To ask,” in fact, is to recognize, through poverty, that everything is a gift from the Lord and to give thanks for it. “To seek” is to open oneself, through obedience, to discovering each day the path we must take on the journey towards holiness, following God’s plans. “To knock” is to ask for and to offer the gifts we have received to our brothers and sisters with a chaste heart, striving to love everyone with respect and generosity.

We could read the words that God addresses to the prophet Malachi in the first reading in the same light. He refers to the inhabitants of Jerusalem as “my special possession” (Mal 3:17) and tells the prophet: “I will spare them as parents spare their children” (ibid.). These expressions remind us of the love with which the Lord has first loved us in calling us. It is an opportunity, especially for you, to reflect on the free gift of your vocation from the origins of your congregation to the present day and from the first steps of your personal journey to this moment. First and foremost, we are all here because God has willed it, and has chosen us from the very beginning.

“To ask,” “to seek,” and “to knock” also means reflecting on our own lives, bringing to mind and heart what the Lord has achieved over the years by multiplying talents, strengthening and purifying faith, and fostering generosity and freedom in charity. Sometimes this has been achieved in joyful circumstances, and at other times in ways that are more difficult to understand, perhaps even through the mysterious crucible of suffering. At all times, however, we find ourselves in the embrace of that paternal goodness that characterizes what he does in us and through us, for the good of the Church (cf. Lumen Gentium, 43).

This brings us to a second reflection: God as the fullness and meaning of our lives. For you — for us — the Lord is everything. He is everything in different ways: as Creator and the source of existence, as love that calls and challenges, as the strength that impels and inspires us to give. Without him, nothing exists, nothing makes sense, nothing is worthwhile. Your “asking,” “seeking,” and “knocking,” both in prayer and in life, has much to do with this truth. In this regard, Saint Augustine describes God’s presence in his own life using beautiful imagery. He speaks of a light not bound by space, a voice that never fades, food that is not lessened by eating, and a hunger which is never satisfied, and he concludes: “This is what I love when I love my God” (Saint Augustine, Confessions, 10.6.8). These are the words of a mystic, yet they resonate with our own experience. They reveal the longing for infinity that dwells in the hearts of all man and woman. For this reason, the Church entrusts you with the task of being living witnesses to God’s primacy in your lives. By stripping yourselves of everything, you help the brothers and sisters you meet to cultivate this friendship themselves.

After all, history teaches us that an authentic experience of God always gives rise to generous outpourings of charity. This was the case in the lives of your founders and foundresses, men and women who were in love with the Lord and therefore ready to become “all things to all people” (1 Cor 9:22), without distinction, in the most varied ways and situations.

It is true that today, as in the time of Malachi, some say, “It is vain to serve God” (Mal 3:14). This way of thinking leads to a genuine paralysis of the soul. We end up settling for a life made up of fleeting moments, superficial and intermittent relationships, and passing fads — things that leave a void in our hearts. This is not what we need in order to be truly happy. Instead, we need consistent, lasting and healthy experiences of love. Through the example of your consecrated life, you can be likened to the flourishing trees we sang about in the responsorial psalm (cf. Ps 1:3), spreading the “fresh air” of authentic love throughout the world.

I would like to consider one final aspect of your mission. We heard the Lord say to the inhabitants of Jerusalem, “The sun of righteousness shall rise with healing in its wings,” (Mal 4:2) inviting them to hope for a fulfillment of their destiny beyond the present moment. This is a reference to the eschatological dimension of Christian life, which calls us to be engaged in the world, while at the same time constantly striving towards eternity. It is an invitation for you to prolong the “asking,” “seeking,” and “knocking” of your lives through prayer to the eternal horizon that transcends the realities of this world. To orient them toward that Sunday without sunset when “all humanity will enter into... [God’s] rest” (Roman Missal [Italian edition], Preface for Sundays in Ordinary Time X). In this regard, the Second Vatican Council entrusts you with a specific task when it says that consecrated persons are called in a special way to bear witness to “future goods” (cf. Lumen Gentium, 44).

Dear brothers and sisters, the Lord, to whom you have given everything, has rewarded you with such beauty and richness, and I would like to urge you to treasure and cultivate what you have received. Finally, let us recall the words of Saint Paul VI: “Keep,” he wrote to religious, “the simplicity of the ‘least ones’ of the Gospel. May you succeed in discovering this anew in an interior and closer relationship with Christ and in your direct contact with your brethren. You will then experience through the action of the Holy Spirit the joyful exultation of those who are introduced into the secrets of the kingdom. Do not seek to be numbered among the ‘learned and clever’... Such secrets are hidden from these. Be truly poor, meek, eager for holiness, merciful and pure of heart. Be among those who will bring to the world the peace of God” (Saint Paul VI, Apostolic Exhortation Evangelica Testificatio, 29 June 1971, 54).

09.10.25

Dear brothers and sisters, good morning!

Today I would like to invite you to reflect on a surprising aspect of Christ's Resurrection: his humility. If we think back to the Gospel accounts, we realize that the risen Lord does nothing spectacular to impose himself on the faith of his disciples. He does not appear surrounded by hosts of angels, he does not perform spectacular feats, he does not deliver solemn speeches to reveal the secrets of the universe. On the contrary, he approaches discreetly, like any other wayfarer, like a hungry man asking to share some bread (cf. Lk 24:15, 41).

Mary Magdalene mistakes him for a gardener (cf. Jn 20:15). The disciples of Emmaus believe him to be a stranger (cf. Lk 24:18). Peter and the other fishermen think he is just a passer-by (cf. Jn 21:4). We would have expected special effects, signs of power, overwhelming evidence. But the Lord does not seek this: he prefers the language of proximity, of normality, of sharing a meal.

Brothers and sisters, there is a valuable message in this: the Resurrection is not a theatrical coup; it is a silent transformation that fills every human gesture with meaning. The risen Jesus eats a piece of fish in front of his disciples: this is not a marginal detail, it is confirmation that our body, our history, our relationships are not a shell to be thrown away. They are destined for the fullness of life. Resurrection does not mean becoming evanescent spirits, but entering into a deeper communion with God and with our brothers and sisters, in a humanity transfigured by love.

In the Pasch of Christ, everything can become grace. Even the most ordinary things: eating, working, waiting, taking care of the house, supporting a friend. The Resurrection does not remove life from time and effort, but changes its meaning and “flavour”. Every gesture performed in gratitude and communion anticipates the Kingdom of God.

However, there is an obstacle that often prevents us from recognizing Christ’s presence in our daily lives: the assumption that joy must be free from suffering. The disciples of Emmaus walk sadly because they hoped for a different ending, for a Messiah who did not know the cross. Although they have heard that the tomb is empty, they cannot smile. But Jesus walks alongside them and patiently helps them understand that pain is not the denial of the promise, but the way through which God has manifested the measure of his love (cf. Lk 24:13-27).

When they are finally seated at the table with him and break bread, their eyes are opened. They realize that their hearts were already burning, even though they did not know it (cf. Lk 24:28-32). This is the greatest surprise: to discover that beneath the ashes of disenchantment and weariness there is always a living ember, waiting only to be rekindled.

Brothers and sisters, Christ’s resurrection teaches us that no history is so marked by disappointment or sin that it cannot be visited by hope. No fall is definitive, no night is eternal, no wound is destined to remain open forever. However distant, lost or unworthy we may feel, there is no distance that can extinguish the unfailing power of God’s love.

Sometimes we think that the Lord comes to visit us only in moments of contemplation or spiritual fervour, when we feel worthy, when our lives appear orderly and bright. Instead, the Risen One is close to us precisely in the darkest places: in our failures, in our frayed relationships, in the daily struggles that weigh on our shoulders, in the doubts that discourage us. Nothing that we are, no fragment of our existence, is foreign to him.

Today, the risen Lord walks alongside each of us, as we travel our paths – those of work and commitment, but also those of suffering and loneliness – and with infinite delicacy asks us to let him warm our hearts. He does not impose himself loudly; he does not demand to be recognized immediately. He waits patiently for the moment when our eyes will open to see his friendly face, capable of transforming disappointment into hopeful expectation, sadness into gratitude, resignation into hope.

The Risen One desires only to manifest his presence, to become our companion on the road and to kindle in us the certainty that his life is stronger than any death. Let us then ask for the grace to recognize his humble and discreet presence, not to expect a life without trials, to discover that every pain, if inhabited by love, can become a place of communion.

And so, like the disciples of Emmaus, we too return to our homes with hearts burning with joy. A simple joy that does not erase wounds, but illuminates them. A joy that comes from the certainty that the Lord is alive, walks with us, and gives us the possibility to start again at every moment.

I extend a warm welcome to the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors taking part in today’s Audience, especially those coming from Australia, Denmark, England, India, Indonesia, Ireland, Japan, Malaysia, Nigeria, Northern Ireland, Norway, the Philippines, Saudi Arabia, Scotland, South Africa, South Korea, Sweden, Vietnam, Wales and the United States of America. In greeting with particular affection the religious and consecrated who are participating in the Jubilee of Consecrated Life, I encourage you to look to the Blessed Virgin Mary who is “the sublime model of consecration to the Father, union with the Son and openness to the Spirit” (Vita consecrata, 28). God bless you all!

Lastly, my thoughts turn to the young people, the sick and the newlyweds. I invite everyone to turn our thoughts to Mary, invoked in this month of October as Queen of the Holy Rosary; look to her and be ready to respond to the plan of love that God has for each one of you. My blessing to you all!

08.10.25

Dear brothers and sisters,

Before praying the Angelus together, I would like to greet and thank all of you who have taken part in this Jubilee celebration dedicated to missionaries and migrants.  You are good missionaries because you came even in the rain!  Thank you.  The Church is entirely missionary and is one great people journeying towards the Kingdom of God.  Today, our missionary and migrant brothers and sisters remind us of this.  But no one should be forced to flee, nor exploited or mistreated because of their situation as foreigners or people in need!  Human dignity must always come first.

I greet all the pilgrims present, especially those from the Diocese of Pavia, led by their Bishop, as well as the faithful, including some young people from Bethlehem, who are carrying the statue of Our Lady of Revelation.

On the evening of Tuesday, 30 September, a strong earthquake struck the central region of the Philippines, particularly the province of Cebu and its neighboring provinces.  I express my closeness to the dear Filipino people, and in particular I pray for those who are most severely affected by the consequences of the earthquake.  Faced with any danger, let us remain united and supportive in our trust in God and in the intercession of our Blessed Mother.

I express my concern about the rise of antisemitic hatred in the world, as unfortunately we saw with the terrorist attack in Manchester a few days ago.  I continue to be saddened by the immense suffering of the Palestinian people in Gaza.

In recent hours, in the dramatic situation in the Middle East, some significant steps forward have been taken in peace negotiations, which I hope will achieve the desired results as soon as possible.  I ask all those in positions of responsibility to commit themselves to this path, to bring about a ceasefire and to release the hostages.  At the same time, I urge everyone to remain united in prayer, so that the ongoing efforts may put an end to the war and lead us towards a just and lasting peace.

Let us join ourselves spiritually with those gathered at the Shrine in Pompeii for the Supplication to the Virgin of the Holy Rosary.  In this month of October, as we contemplate with Mary the mysteries of Christ our Savior, let us deepen our prayer for peace: a prayer that becomes concrete solidarity with those people tormented by war.  Thank you to the many children around the world who have committed themselves to praying the Rosary for this intention.  You have our heartfelt thanks!

05.10.25 a

Dear brothers and sisters,

Today we celebrate the Jubilee of the Missions and of Migrants.  This is a wonderful opportunity to rekindle in ourselves the awareness of our missionary vocation, which arises from the desire to bring the joy and consolation of the Gospel to everyone, especially those who are experiencing difficult and painful situations.  In particular, I think of our migrant brothers and sisters, who have had to depart their homelands, often leaving their loved ones behind, enduring nights of fear and loneliness, experiencing discrimination and violence firsthand.

We are here because, at the tomb of the Apostle Peter, each one of us should be able to say with joy: the entire Church is missionary, and it is urgent – as Pope Francis affirmed – that we “go forth and preach the Gospel to all: to all places, on all occasions, without hesitation, reluctance or fear” (Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii Gaudium, 23).

The Spirit sends us to continue the work of Christ in the world’s peripheries, marked at times by war, injustice and suffering.  Faced with these menacing situations, the cry that so often in history has been raised up to God has re-emerged: Lord, why do you not intervene?  Why do you seem absent? This cry of sorrow is a form of prayer that pervades all of Scripture and, this morning, we heard it from the prophet Habakkuk: “O Lord, how long shall I cry for help, and you will not hear? … Why do you make me see wrongs and look upon trouble?” (Hab 1:2-3).

Pope Benedict XVI, who had reflected on these questions during his historic visit to Auschwitz, returned to the theme in a catechesis, affirming: “God is silent and this silence pierces the soul of the person praying, who ceaselessly calls but receives no answer … God seems so distant, so forgetful, so absent” (Catechesis, 14 September 2011).

The response of the Lord, however, opens us to hope.  If the prophet denounces the inescapable force of evil that seems to prevail, the Lord, for his part, announces to him that all of this will end, will cease, because salvation will come and it will not delay: “Look at the proud!  Their spirit is not right in them, but the righteous live by their faith” (Hab 2:4).

Therefore, there is life, a new possibility of life and salvation that comes from faith, because it not only helps us to resist evil and to persevere in doing good, but it transforms our lives so as to make of them an instrument of the salvation that even today God wishes to bring about in the world.  And, as Jesus says in the Gospel, this is about a lowly strength, for faith does not impose itself by means of power and in extraordinary ways.  Indeed, it is enough to have faith the size of a mustard seed in order to do unimaginable things (cf. Lk 17:6), because it carries within it the strength of God’s love that opens the way to salvation.

This is a salvation that is fulfilled when we take responsibility and, with the compassion of the Gospel, care for the suffering of others; it is a salvation that leads the way, silently and apparently without success, in daily words and actions, which become precisely like the tiny seed of which Jesus speaks; it is a salvation that slowly grows when we become “unworthy servants”, namely when we place ourselves at the service of the Gospel and of our brothers and sisters, not seeking our own interests but only bringing God’s love to the world.

Trusting in this, we are called to renew in ourselves the fire of our missionary vocation.  As Saint Paul VI affirmed, “it is our responsibility to proclaim the Gospel in this extraordinary period of human history, a time truly without precedent, in which, at the heights of progress never before reached, there are also accompanying depths of perplexity and desperation equally without precedent” (Message for World Mission Day, 25 June 1971).

Brothers and sisters, today a new missionary age opens up in the history of the Church.

If for a long time we have associated with mission the word “depart”, the going out to distant lands that did not know the Gospel or were experiencing poverty, today the frontiers of the missions are no longer geographical, because poverty, suffering and the desire for a greater hope have made their way to us.  The story of so many of our migrant brothers and sisters bears witnesses to this: the tragedy of their flight from violence, the suffering which accompanies it, the fear of not succeeding, the perilous risk of traveling along the coastline, their cry of sorrow and desperation.  Brothers and sisters, those boats which hope to catch sight of a safe port, and those eyes filled with anguish and hope seeking to reach the shore, cannot and must not find the coldness of indifference or the stigma of discrimination!

Mission is not so much about “departing”, but instead “remaining” in order to proclaim Christ through hospitality and welcome, compassion and solidarity.  We are to remain without fleeing to the comforts of our individualism; to remain so as to look upon those who arrive from lands that are distant and violent; to remain and open our arms and hearts to them, welcoming them as brothers and sisters, and being for them a presence of consolation and hope.

There are many missionary men and women, but also believers and people of good will, who work in the service of migrants, and promote a new culture of fraternity on the theme of migration, beyond stereotypes and prejudices.  But this precious service involves each one of us, within the limits of our own means.  As Pope Francis affirmed, this is the time for all of us to let ourselves be “permanently in a state of mission” (Evangelii Guadium, 25).

This entails at least two important missionary tasks: missionary cooperation and missionary vocation.

First of all, I ask you to promote a renewed missionary cooperation among the Churches.  In the communities of ancient Christian tradition, such as those of the West, the presence of many brothers and sisters from the world’s South should be welcomed as an opportunity, through an exchange that renews the face of the Church and sustains a Christianity that is more open, more alive and more dynamic.  At the same time, all missionaries that depart for other lands are called to live with respect within the culture they encounter, directing to the good all that is found true and worthy, and bringing there the prophetic message of the Gospel.

I would like to recall the beauty and importance of missionary vocations.  I refer in particular to the Church in Europe: today there is a need for a new missionary effort by laity, religious and priests who will offer their service in missionary lands.  We need new ideas and vocational experiences capable of sustaining this desire, especially in young people.

Beloved friends, I willingly give my blessing to the local clergy of the particular Churches, to missionaries and those discerning a vocation.  Whereas, to migrants I say: know that you are always welcome!  The seas and deserts that you have crossed, Scripture calls “places of salvation”, in which God makes himself present to save his people.  I hope that you find this face of God in the missionaries that you encounter.

I entrust all of you to the intercession of Mary, the first of her Son’s missionaries, who went in haste to the hill country of Judea, carrying Jesus in her womb and putting herself at the service of Elizabeth.  May Mary sustain us, so that each of us can become co-workers for the Kingdom of Christ, the Kingdom of love, justice and peace.

05.10.25 m

Dear brothers and sisters, good morning!

The centre of our faith and the heart of our hope are firmly rooted in the resurrection of Christ. When we read the Gospels carefully, we realize that this mystery is surprising not only because a man – the Son of God – rose from the dead, but also because of the way he decided to do so. Indeed, Jesus’ resurrection is not a bombastic triumph, nor is it revenge or retaliation against his enemies. It is a wonderful testimony to how love is capable of rising again after a great defeat in order to continue its unstoppable journey.

When we get up again after a trauma caused by others, often the first reaction is anger, the desire to make someone pay for what we have suffered. The Risen One does not react in this way. When he emerges from the underworld of death, Jesus does not take revenge. He does not return with gestures of power, but rather with meekness he manifests the joy of a love greater than any wound and stronger than any betrayal.

The Risen One does not feel any need to reiterate or affirm his own superiority. He appears to his friends – the disciples – and he does so with extreme discretion, without forcing the pace of their capacity for acceptance. His only desire is to return to communion with them, helping them to overcome the sense of guilt. We see this very well in the Upper Room, where the Lord appears to his friends who are enclosed in fear. It is a moment that expresses extraordinary power: Jesus, after descending into the abysses of death to liberate those who were imprisoned there, enters the closed room of those who are paralyzed by fear, bringing them a gift that no-one would have dared to hope for: peace.

His greeting is simple, almost ordinary: “Peace be with you!” (Jn 20:19). But it is accompanied by a gesture so beautiful that it is almost disconcerting: Jesus shows the disciples his hands and his side, with the marks of the passion. Why show his wounds to those who, in those dramatic hours, had denied and abandoned him? Why not hide those signs of pain and avoid reopening the wound of shame?

Yet, the Gospel says that, seeing the Lord, the disciples rejoiced (cf. Jn 20:20). The reason is profound: Jesus is now fully reconciled with everything he has suffered. There is not a shadow of resentment. The wounds serve not to reproach, but to confirm a love stronger than any infidelity. They are the proof that, even in the moment of our failure, God did not retreat. He did not give up on us.

In this way, the Lord shows himself to be naked and defenceless. He does not demand, he does not hold us to ransom. His is a love that does not humiliate; it is the peace of one who has suffered for love and can now finally affirm that it was worthwhile.

Instead, we often mask our wounds out of pride, or for fear of appearing weak. We say, “it doesn’t matter”, “it is all in the past”, but we are not truly at peace with the betrayals that have wounded us. At times we prefer to hide our effort to forgive so as not to appear vulnerable and to risk suffering again. Jesus does not. He offers his wounds as a guarantee of forgiveness. And he shows that the Resurrection is not the erasure of the past, but its transfiguration into a hope of mercy.

Then, the Lord repeats: “Peace be with you!”. And he adds, “As the Father has sent me, even so I send you” (v. 21). With these words, he entrusts the apostles with a task that is not so much a power as a responsibility: to be instruments of reconciliation in the world. As if he said: “Who will be able to proclaim the merciful face of the Father, if not you, who have experienced failure and forgiveness?”.

Jesus breathes on them and gives them the Holy Spirit (v. 22). It is the same Spirit who sustained him in obedience to the Father and in love even to the cross. From that moment, the apostles will no longer be able to remain silent about what they have seen and heard: that God forgives, lifts up, and restores trust.

This is the heart of the mission of the Church: not to administer power over others, but to communicate the joy of those who are loved precisely when they did not deserve it. It is the strength that gave rise to the Christian communities and made them grow: men and women who discovered the beauty of returning to life to be able to give it to others.

Dear brothers and sisters, we too are sent. The Lord shows us his wounds and says: Peace be with you. Do not be afraid to show your wounds healed by mercy. Do not be afraid to draw close to those who are trapped in fear or guilt. May the breath of the Spirit make us, too, witnesses of this peace and this love that is stronger than any defeat.

I am saddened by the news coming from Madagascar, about the violent clashes between the police and young demonstrators, which have caused the death of some of them and a hundred injured. Let us pray to the Lord that every form of violence may always be avoided, and that the constant search for social harmony through the promotion of justice and the common good may be fostered.

I greet the English speaking pilgrims and visitors taking part in today’s audience, in particular the groups from England, Scotland, Ireland, Northern Ireland, Denmark, the Netherlands, Norway, Australia, New Zealand, Cambodia, Hong Kong, India, Indonesia, Japan, Lebanon, Malaysia, the Philippines, Taiwan, Tanzania, Vietnam, Canada and the United States of America. 

My special greeting goes to the Seminarians from the Pontifical Irish College, who are beginning their studies, and to the diaconate class of the Pontifical North American College, together with their families and friends. 

As we begin the month dedicated to the holy Rosary, I invite you to pray it daily for peace in our world. May the peace of the risen Christ be with you all! God bless you.

Lastly, my thoughts turn to the young people, the sick and the newlyweds. Today we remember Saint Thérèse of the Child Jesus, Doctor of the Church and patroness of the missions. May her example encourage each one to follow Jesus on the journey of life, bearing joyful witness to the Gospel everywhere.

My blessing to you all!

01.10.25