Dear brothers and sisters,

Dear young people!

The Feast of the Transfiguration, which we are celebrating, is a mystery of light that enriches our encounter — one that is so joyful, yet also raises questions about the present and the future. In the Gospel, we find the contrast between light and shadow, silence and words, wonder and incomprehension. Today, we are in Assisi, a city to which countless pilgrims have made their way for centuries, because here everything whispers that our lives can take on a new form, radiate light and heal the world. It was here that the transformation of Francis, Clare and then thousands of other young people began. They embraced the Gospel sine glossa — we could say, in its simplicity — then the life of Jesus began anew within them.

We have come here to understand where history is heading and where we ourselves are going. In the Gospel, we see that meaning can indeed be found, that a path can be glimpsed. Like Peter, James and John, we too have been brought a little aside, and Jesus is with us. What matters is his presence. On the mountain, the apostles contemplate Jesus, who had been speaking about his own future, which had caused a misunderstanding among them. Six days earlier, Peter had taken issue with the Master for speaking openly about the cross (cf. Mt 16:21–26) because he expected glory for the Messiah, and perhaps even for himself. Peter did not consider any opposition or risks, and especially did not ask himself what glory really means. Now, in Jesus’ Transfiguration, God himself reveals his glory, which takes the form of a cloud that protects and envelops. He points to his Son and invites us to listen to him. The path of life is discovered by following him together. The beauty of this path takes on a new dimension, an unprecedented intensity, so much so that Peter would like to stay awhile and prolong that vision. He generously offers to build three tents as he would like that conversation between Jesus, Moses and Elijah to continue. However, one must enter into that conversation, not remain a mere spectator. Indeed, we are called to read the Scriptures with the Master, to interpret our own times and to make decisions by following his path. We have come here to overcome resignation and fear, to dispel the doubts that hold us back, just as they held back the apostles. Jesus calls us to engage with his story in order to write new pages of history.

As we hear that “his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became as white as the light” (Mt 17:2), we recall Easter morning when an angel of the Lord rolled away the stone sealing the tomb and brought the announcement of the Resurrection. “His face was like lightning, his robe white as snow” (Mt 28:3). That is the light of a new day, toward which we are drawn, even as darkness still surrounds us — and sometimes dwells within us. We see the dawning light in the canonized saints, such as Saint Francis and Saint Clare, and in a myriad of brothers and sisters who respond to evil with good. We are not alone! In recent days you have experienced this, since you have met and listened to one another, moving beyond the clamour of overlapping and conflicting voices to the art of conversation. Today, we contemplate Jesus, who is transfigured precisely in conversation with the Father, with those who preceded him — Moses and Elijah — and with his contemporaries, the disciples.

The Church exists to lead us into this dynamic of listening and decision-making, in which we come to understand for whom we are to live and how we are to live. The Church is the community in which we learn to discern the voice of God, which never simply coincides with our own opinions, and to dare to obey the Holy Spirit, who makes bold and creative all those who choose to follow Jesus. While we are “disfigured” by separating ourselves from him and from others, we are transfigured through the bonds that nourish and call us to life. Franciscan spirituality, in which you have been formed, is among the most attentive to restoring fundamental relationships with God and with all his creatures. Today, more than ever, this is a harmony that needs to be safeguarded and cultivated.

In this regard, at the beginning of my first Encyclical, I suggested that “Each generation inherits the task of shaping its own era, of guiding history to become a place where the dignity of every person is safeguarded, justice is promoted and fraternity is made possible. Yet every era also runs the risk of creating an inhumane and more unjust world. Whenever humanity is in danger of marring its true identity, we Christians lift our eyes to the Incarnate God, knowing that it is ‘only in the mystery of the Word made flesh that the mystery of humanity truly becomes clear.’ In Jesus Christ, this humanity in its grandeur becomes the Way, the Truth and the Life, opening the path for each of us to grow toward fullness” (Magnifica Humanitas, 1).

Dear friends, the reason why Saint Francis still draws us to himself, even eight hundred years after his death, lies in the grandeur of humanity that led him to abandon familiar ways in order to find a new path that is more consistent with that of Jesus. Even in a town that had been Christian for centuries, such as Assisi, this seemed revolutionary. “Clare’s choice was even more striking: a girl who wanted to be like Francis, who wanted to live, as a woman, as free as those brothers!” (Jubilee Audience, 4 October 2025). This is the energy of Christianity — the energy of its beginnings and of its many new beginnings.

Well then, dear young people, today Europe and the whole world are looking to you to be new saints. Dare to believe in the word of the Gospel; become fully human with the freedom of Jesus Christ; embrace Sister Poverty! The title of your gathering, Go!, is a mission, a sending forth onto paths for which we have no maps, because they are opened by listening to the heart, obeying the Holy Spirit, and following the Risen One wherever he has chosen to go before us. Go! Go! Or better yet: let us go! Let’s go to the margins, where the injustice and arrogance of a few deny the dignity and dreams of many, of far too many sons and daughters of God. Pope Francis, drawing inspiration from the Poverello of Assisi, warned us against the temptation “to be that kind of Christian who keeps the Lord’s wounds at arm’s length. Yet Jesus wants us to touch human misery, to touch the suffering flesh of others. He hopes that we will stop looking for those personal or communal niches which shelter us from the maelstrom of human misfortune” (Evangelii Gaudium, 270).

We may not be understood, even by those closest to us, as happened to Saint Francis. Yet, breaking free from the culture of power, and tearing down the walls that separate human beings from one another, is never a betrayal of our families, towns or traditions. Instead, it means freeing them from their ghosts, from enemies invented out of fear or ignorance and from the violence with which people seek to impose their own limited order on a reality that surpasses us on every side. To trust in God is to rediscover, like Francis and Clare, a world of brothers and sisters to cherish and serve, not to exploit and dominate. Not a world to defend, but to embrace.

Commit yourselves, dear young people, to the civilization of love, whose first signs you have encountered in so many examples of selfless giving, and which — in the image of Christ — transforms countless peacemakers who, even today, are committed to serving life in the most tragic situations of death. Unite the best energies of your magnificent humanity: your studies, skills, work, friendships, love and prayer, so that you can bring Saint Francis’ vision to life in many different ways. I imagine you hold dear the prayer often attributed to him, a text from the last century:

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.

Where there is hatred, let me bring love.

Where there is offence, let me bring pardon.

Where there is discord, let me bring union.

Where there is error, let me bring truth.

Where there is doubt, let me bring faith.

Where there is despair, let me bring hope.

Where there is darkness, let me bring your light.

Where there is sadness, let me bring joy.

That is “where” to go. But here, especially, is “how” to go:

O Lord, grant that I may not so much seek

to be consoled as to console,

to be understood as to understand,

to be loved as to love,

for it is in giving that one receives,

it is in self-forgetting that one finds,

it is in forgiving that one is forgiven,

it is in dying that one awakens to eternal life.

Dear friends, may these days in Assisi remain etched in your memory, and may your return home, to the various countries of Europe to which you will travel, be like the descent of Peter, James and John from the high mountain of the Transfiguration. May your return be reflective, open to the future and committed to Jesus Christ. He trusts you, counts on you and remains always with you.

06.08.26 m

Pope Leo Holy Mass 06.08.26   

The Transfiguration of the Lord

FAMINE

Pope Francis

Hunger

Hunger is an injustice that destroys men and women because they have nothing to eat, even if there is a lot food available in the world. Human exploitation; different forms of slavery; recently I saw a film shot inside a prison where migrants are locked up and tortured to turn them into slaves. This is still happening 70 years after the Declaration of Human Rights. Cultural colonization. This is exactly what the Devil wants, to destroy human dignity – and that is why the Devil is behind all forms of persecution.

01.06.18

Pope Leo General Audience 05.08.26  

Brothers and sisters, good morning and welcome!

In this catechism, we will resume our reflection on the Conciliar Constitution on the liturgy, Sacrosanctum Concilium (SC). Today we will look at the ecclesial dimension of liturgical prayer.

As the Apostle Paul suggests, it is the Holy Spirit who teaches us to pray. From the day of Pentecost, the Spirit dwells in the Church, inspiring every one of her activities and, in particular, prayer. The life of the first community, born in Jerusalem after the Pasch of Jesus, is life in the Spirit given by the risen Lord. “From that time onwards the Church has never failed to come together to celebrate the paschal mystery: reading those things ‘which were in all the scriptures concerning him’ (Lk 24:27), celebrating the Eucharist in which ‘the victory and triumph of his death are again made present’, and at the same time giving thanks ‘to God for his unspeakable gift’ (2 Cor 9:15) in Christ Jesus, ‘in praise of his glory’ (Eph. 1:12), through the power of the Holy Spirit” (SC, 6).

In our time, in contexts dominated by an efficiency-driven and consumerist mindset, prayer may seem pointless and trivial. In a world where science and technology claim to provide all the answers, praying may appear to be a form of escapism. Furthermore, even in many Christian families, the tradition of prayer is no longer passed on, whilst many people risk confusing it with just another technique, of a psychological nature aimed at personal well-being. Prayer, however, as a fundamental dimension of our humanity, is worth rediscovering in its true form.

The Constitution Sacrosanctum Concilium took this need seriously. This greatly pleased Pope Saint Paul VI, who, on promulgating this first document approved by the Second Vatican Council, stated: “God comes first; prayer is our primary duty; the liturgy is the primary source of the divine life communicated to us, the primary school of our spiritual life” (Address, Saint Peter’s Basilica, 4 December 1963).

Indeed, in the Constitution, the term “prayer” designates the liturgy as a whole. This perspective is decisive, for it guided the liturgical reform, making the active participation of the faithful its central pillar. The liturgy is presented first and foremost as the place of encounter, of God’s initiative in drawing near to humanity in his Son, “the Word made flesh, anointed by the Holy Spirit” (SC, 5), to whom we may respond “through Christ, with Christ and in Christ, in the unity of the Holy Spirit”, that is to say, thanks to “the very prayer which Christ Himself, together with His Body, addresses to the Father” (SC, 84).

For this reason, Saint Paul VI ardently desired that the Liturgy of the Hours, the Church’s daily public prayer, inseparable from the Eucharist, might deeply permeate, enliven, guide and express all Christian prayer, and effectively nourish the spiritual life of the People of God (cf. Apostolic Constitution Laudis canticum).

For this desire to be fulfilled, the Liturgy of the Hours needs to be more fully embraced and lived out in the daily lives of the baptised and of the communities. To the many people who wish to learn to pray, especially catechumens, it can offer the path and the school of Christian prayer.

Every week and every day, the Eucharist and the Liturgy of the Hours are the breath of the life of the Church, which makes the Holy Spirit circulate through her Body. In this prayer, Christ “joins the entire community of mankind to Himself, associating it with His own singing of this canticle of divine praise” (SC, 83). In this way, day by day, we are ever more united with the Paschal Mystery and conformed to him.

Saint Augustine affirms that “When we speak to God in prayer for mercy, we do not separate the Son from Him; and when the Body of the Son prays, it separates not its Head from itself: and it is one Saviour of His Body, our Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who both prays for us, and prays in us, and is prayed to by us. He prays for us, as our Priest; He prays in us, as our Head; He is prayed to by us, as our God. Let us therefore recognize in Him our words, and His words in us” (Enarr. in psalmum LXXXVI: PL 37, 1081).

Bound to the Eucharist, whose light it prolongs, the Liturgy of the Hours sanctifies the time of our daily lives: in the morning, we begin the day with faith and gratitude; at midday, we ask for the strength to remain faithful amidst our labours; in the evening, once our work is done, Vespers accompany the moment of sunset; at night, we fall asleep entrusting ourselves to God’s peace. Each Hour is an act of hope: during our earthly pilgrimage, we keep watch, awaiting with the whole Church the glorious return of the Lord.

I extend a warm welcome to all the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors taking part in today’s Audience, especially those from England, Malta and the United States of America. Upon you and your families, I invoke the joy and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ. God bless you all!

05.08.26

Pope Leo Angelus 02.08.26

How do we receive the Word of God? The response is clear: As one receives Jesus Christ. The Church tells us that Jesus is present in the Scripture, in His Word.

Always carry a small Gospel with you in your purse, in your pocket, and read a passage from the Gospel during the day. Not so much to learn something, but mostly to find Jesus, because Jesus actually is in His Word, in His Gospel.  Every time I read the Gospel, I find Jesus.  - Pope Francis 01.09.14

Daily Readings - read the entire New Testament over a 2 year period (reading plan courtesy of Gideon International)

The Bible Online

Thank you, Francis

Every month, you have invited us to pray with you for the challenges of humanity and the mission of the Church, teaching us to learn compassion for others from the heart of Christ. Thank you, Francis, for your life and your witness.

Your Worldwide Prayer Network.

Pope Francis Easter Message and Urbi et Orbi Blessing   20.04.25

Easter Sunday

for the full transcript click on the picture link above

Pope Francis

Care for Our Common Home 

- Laudato Si'

Pope Francis 

Refugees and Migrants

Pope Francis

 Marriage

Pope Francis - The ‘foreverness’ and beauty of Love 

Pope Francis - The Family in the Light of the Word of God

Pope Francis 

Fraternity

Pope Francis

Compassion

Pope Francis

Happiness

Pope Leo Holy Mass 04.07.26

 Pastoral Visit to Lampedusa

Pope Francis Message for the 58th World Day of Peace 01.01.25