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Dear brothers and sisters,

This evening’s solemn liturgy marks our entry into the Holy Triduum of the Lord’s Passion, Death and Resurrection. We cross this threshold not as mere spectators, nor out of habit, but as those personally invited by Jesus himself as guests at the Supper in which bread and wine become for us the sacrament of salvation. Indeed, we take part in a banquet at which Christ “having loved his own who were in the world, loved them to the end” (Jn 13:1). His love becomes both gesture and nourishment for all, revealing the justice of God. In this world, and particularly in those places where evil abounds, Jesus loves definitively — forever, and with his whole being.

During this Last Supper, he washes the feet of his apostles, saying: “I have given you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you” (Jn 13:15). The Lord’s gesture is inseparable from the table to which he has invited us. This gesture is a concrete example that flows from the sacrament: while revealing the meaning of the Eucharistic mystery, it also entrusts to us a task — a mission that we are called to take up as nourishment for our lives. John the Evangelist chooses the Greek word upódeigma to describe the event he witnessed: it means “that which is shown before your eyes.” What the Lords shows us — taking the water, the basin and the towel — is far more than a moral example. He entrusts to us his very way of life. The washing of the feet is a gesture that encapsulates the revelation of God: an exemplary sign of the Word made flesh, his unmistakable memorial. By taking on the condition of a servant, the Son reveals the Father’s glory, overturning the worldly standards that so often distort our conscience.

Along with the silent astonishment of his disciples, even human pride cannot remain blind to what is taking place. Like Peter, who at first resisted Jesus’ initiative, we too must “learn repeatedly that God’s greatness is different from our idea of greatness… because we systematically desire a God of success and not of the Passion” (Homily at Mass of the Lord’s Supper, 20 March 2008). These words of Pope Benedict XVI candidly acknowledge that we are always tempted to seek a God who “serves” us, who grants us victory, who proves useful like wealth or power. Yet we fail to perceive that God does indeed serve us through the gratuitous and humble gesture of washing feet. This is the true omnipotence of God. In this way, his desire to devote himself to those whose very existence depends upon his gift is fulfilled. Out of love, the Lord kneels to wash each one of us, and his divine gift transforms us.

Indeed, through this act, Jesus purifies not only our image of God — from the idolatry and blasphemy that have distorted it — but also our image of humanity. For we tend to consider ourselves powerful when we dominate, victorious when we destroy our equals, great when we are feared. In contrast, as true God and true man, Christ offers us the example of self-giving, service and love. We need his example to learn how to love, not because we are incapable of it, but precisely to teach ourselves and one another what true love is. Learning to act like Jesus — the living sign that God has placed within the history of the world — is the work of a lifetime.

He is the true measure, the “Teacher and Lord” (Jn 13:13) who removes every divine and human mask. He offers his example not when all are content and devoted to him, but on the night he was betrayed, in the darkness of incomprehension and violence. In this way, it becomes clear that the Lord’s love precedes our own goodness or purity; he loves us first, and in that love, he forgives and restores us. His love is not a reward for our acceptance of his mercy; instead, he loves us, and therefore cleanses us, thereby enabling us to respond to his love.

Let us, then, learn from Jesus this reciprocal service. He does not ask us to repay him, but to share his gift among ourselves: “You also ought to wash one another’s feet” (Jn 13:14). As Pope Francis once remarked: this “is a duty which comes from my heart: I love it. I love this and I love to do it because that is what the Lord has taught me to do” (Homily at Mass of the Lord’s Supper, 28 March 2013). He was not speaking of an abstract imperative, nor of a formal and empty command, but expressing his heartfelt obedience to the charity of Christ, which is both the source and the model of our own charity. Indeed, the example given by Jesus cannot be imitated out of convenience, reluctance or hypocrisy, but only out of love.

Allowing ourselves to be served by the Lord is therefore the necessary condition for serving as he did. “Unless I wash you”, Jesus said to Peter, “you have no share in me” (Jn 13:8): unless you accept me as your servant, you cannot truly believe in me or follow me as Lord. By washing our bodies, Jesus purifies our souls. In him, God has given us an example — not of how to dominate, but of how to liberate; not of how to destroy life, but of how to give it.

As humanity is brought to its knees by so many acts of brutality, let us too kneel down as brothers and sisters alongside the oppressed. In this way, we seek to follow the Lord’s example, fulfilling what we have heard from the book of Exodus: “This day shall be a day of remembrance for you” (12:14). Indeed, the whole of biblical history converges in Jesus, the true Passover lamb. In him, the ancient figures find their fulfilment, for Christ the Saviour accomplishes the Passover of humanity, opening for all the passage from sin to forgiveness, from death to eternal life: “This is my body which is for you. Do this in remembrance of me” (1 Cor 11:24).

By renewing the Lord’s gestures and words this very evening, we commemorate the institution of the Eucharist and of Holy Orders. The intrinsic bond between these two sacraments reveals the perfect self-gift of Jesus, the High Priest and living, eternal Eucharist. For in the consecrated bread and wine lies “a sacrament of love, a sign of unity, a bond of charity, a paschal banquet in which Christ is received, the mind is filled with grace, and a pledge of future glory is given to us” (Dogmatic Constitution Sacrosantum Concilium, 4 December 1963, 47). Through bishops and priests, constituted as “priests of the New Covenant” according to the Lord’s command (Council of Trent; De Missae Sacrificio, 1), there is made present the sign of his charity towards the whole People of God. Beloved brothers in the priesthood, we are called to serve the People of God with our whole lives.

Holy Thursday is therefore a day of fervent gratitude and authentic fraternity. May this evening’s Eucharistic adoration, in every parish and community, be a time to contemplate Jesus’ gesture, kneeling as he did, and to ask for the strength to imitate his service with the same love.

02.04.26 mls

Dear brothers and sisters,

We are now on the threshold of the Easter Triduum. Once again, the Lord will lead us to the culmination of his mission, so that his passion, death and resurrection may become the heart of our mission. What we are about to relive, in fact, possesses the power to transform what human pride generally tends to harden: our identity and our place in the world. Jesus’ freedom changes hearts, heals wounds, refreshes and brightens our faces, reconciles and gathers us together, and forgives and raises us up.

In this, my first year presiding over the Chrism Mass as Bishop of Rome, I would like to reflect with you on the mission to which God calls us as his people. It is the Christian mission, the very same as Jesus’, not another. Each of us takes part in it according to our own vocation in a deeply personal obedience to the voice of the Spirit, yet never without others, never neglecting or breaking communion! Bishops and priests, as we renew our promises, we are at the service of a missionary people. Together with all the baptized, we are the Body of Christ, anointed by his Spirit of freedom and consolation, the Spirit of prophecy and unity.

What Jesus experiences at the culminating moments of his mission is foreshadowed by the passage from Isaiah, which he quoted in the synagogue at Nazareth as the word that is fulfilled “today” (cf. Lk 4:21). Indeed, at the hour of Easter, it becomes definitively clear that God consecrates in order to send. “He has sent me” (Lk 4:18), says Jesus, describing that movement which binds his Body to the poor, to prisoners, to those groping in the dark and to those who are oppressed. We, as members of his Body, speak of a Church that is “apostolic,” sent out, driven beyond itself, and consecrated to God in the service of his creatures. “As the Father has sent me, so I send you” (Jn 20:21).

We know that being sent entails, first and foremost, a detachment, that is, the risk of leaving behind what is familiar and certain, in order to venture into something new. It is interesting that “with the power of the Spirit” (Lk 4:14), who descended upon him after his baptism in the Jordan, Jesus returned to Galilee and came “to Nazareth, where he had been brought up” (Lk 4:16). It is the place he must now leave behind. He moves “as was his custom” (v. 16), but to usher in a new era. He must now leave that village for good, so that what has taken root there, Sabbath after Sabbath, through faithful listening to the word of God, may come to fruition. Likewise, he will call others to set out, to take risks, so that no place becomes a prison, no identity a hiding place.

Dear friends, we follow Jesus who “did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself” (Phil 2:6-7). Every mission begins with that kind of self-emptying in which everything is reborn. Our dignity as sons and daughters of God cannot be taken from us, nor can it be lost, but neither can the affections, places, and experiences at the start of our lives be erased. We are heirs to so much good and, at the same time, to the limitations of a history into which the Gospel must bring light and salvation, forgiveness and healing. Thus, there is no mission without reconciliation with our past, with the gifts and limitations of the upbringing we have received; but, at the same time, there is no peace without setting out, no awareness without detachment, no joy without risk. We are the Body of Christ if we move forward, coming to terms with the past without being imprisoned by it: everything is restored and multiplied if it is first let go, without fear. This is a fundamental secret of mission. It is not something that is experienced just once, but in every new beginning, in every new sending forth.

Jesus’ journey reveals to us that the willingness to lose oneself, to empty oneself, is not an end in itself, but a condition for encounter and intimacy. Love is true only when it is unguarded; it requires little fuss, no ostentation, and gently cherishes weakness and vulnerability. We struggle to commit ourselves to a mission that exposes us in this way, and yet there is no “good news to the poor” (cf. Lk 4:18) if we go to them bearing the signs of power, nor is there authentic liberation unless we free ourselves from attachment. Here we touch upon a second secret of the Christian mission. After detachment comes the law of encounter. We know that throughout history, mission has not infrequently been distorted by a desire for domination, entirely foreign to the way of Jesus Christ. Saint John Paul II had the clarity and courage to recognise that “because of the bond which unites us to one another in the Mystical Body, all of us, though not personally responsible and without encroaching on the judgment of God who alone knows every heart, bear the burden of the errors and faults of those who have gone before us.” [1]

Consequently, it is now a priority to remember that neither in the pastoral sphere nor in the social and political spheres can good come from abuse of power. The great missionaries bear witnesses to quiet, unobtrusive approaches, whose method is the sharing of life, selfless service, the renunciation of any calculated strategy, dialogue and respect. It is the way of the Incarnation, which always takes the form of inculturation. Salvation, in fact, can only be received by each person through his or her native language. “How is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language?” ( Acts 2:8). The surprise of Pentecost is repeated when we do not presume to control God’s timing, but place our trust in the Holy Spirit, who “is present, even today, as in the time of Jesus and the Apostles: is present and at work, arriving before us, working harder than us and better than us; it is not for us to sow or awaken him, but first and foremost to recognise him, welcome him, go along with him, make way for him, and follow him. He is present and has never lost heart regarding our times; on the contrary, he smiles, dances, penetrates, engulfs, envelops, and reaches even where we would never have imagined.” [2]

To establish this harmony with the transcendent, we must go where we are sent with simplicity, respecting the mystery that every person and every community carries within them. As Christians, we are guests. This is also true if we are bishops, priests, or men and women religious. To be hosts, in fact, we must learn to be guests ourselves. Even the places where secularisation seems most advanced are not lands to be conquered or reconquered: “New cultures are constantly being born in these vast new expanses where Christians are no longer the customary interpreters or generators of meaning. Instead, they themselves take from these cultures new languages, symbols, messages and paradigms which propose new approaches to life, approaches often in contrast with the Gospel of Jesus… It must reach the places where new narratives and paradigms are being formed, bringing the word of Jesus to the inmost soul of our cities.” [3] This happens only if we walk together as the Church, if mission is not a heroic adventure reserved for a few, but the living witness of a Body with many members.

There is also a third dimension, perhaps the most radical, of the Christian mission. The dramatic possibility of misunderstanding and rejection, which is already seen in the violent reaction of the people of Nazareth to Jesus’ words. “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). Although the liturgical reading has omitted this part, what we are about to celebrate this evening calls on us not to flee, but to “pass through” the trial, just as Jesus did. Jesus “passed through the midst of them and went on his way” (Lk 4:30). The cross is part of the mission: the sending becomes more bitter and frightening, but also more freeing and transformative. The imperialist occupation of the world is thus disrupted from within; the violence that until now has been the law is unmasked. The poor, imprisoned, rejected Messiah descends into the darkness of death, yet in so doing he brings a new creation to light.

How many “resurrections” are we called to experience when, free from a defensive attitude, we immerse ourselves in service like a seed in the earth! In life, we may face situations where everything seems to be over. We then ask ourselves whether the mission has been in vain. While it is true that, unlike Jesus, we also experience failures that stem from our own shortcomings or those of others, often from a tangled web of responsibilities of light and shadow, we can make the hope of many witnesses our own. I recall one who is particularly dear to me. A month before his death, in his notebook for the Spiritual Exercises, the holy Bishop Óscar Romero wrote: ‘The nuncio in Costa Rica has warned me of an imminent danger this very week… These unforeseen circumstances will be faced with God’s grace. Jesus Christ helped the martyrs and, if the need arises, I shall feel him very close when I entrust my last breath to him. But, more than the final moment of life, what matters is to give him one’s whole life and to live for him… It is enough for me, to be happy and confident, to know with certainty that in him is my life and my death; that, despite my sins, I have placed my trust in him and I shall not be disheartened, for others will continue, with greater wisdom and holiness, the work for the Church and for the homeland.”

Dearest sisters and brothers, the saints make history. This is the message of Revelation: “Grace to you and peace from him who is and who was and who is to come, and from the seven spirits who are before his throne” (Rev 1:4). This greeting encapsulates Jesus’ journey in a world torn apart by the powers that ravage it. Within it arises a new people, not of victims, but of witnesses. In this dark hour of history, it has pleased God to send us to spread the fragrance of Christ where the stench of death reigns. Let us renew our “yes” to this mission that calls for unity and brings peace. Yes, we are here! Let us overcome the sense of powerlessness and fear! We proclaim your death, O Lord, and we proclaim your resurrection, as we await your coming.

[1] John Paul II, Bull of Indiction of the Great Jubilee of 2000 Incarnationis Mysterium (29 November 1998), 11.

[2] C.M. Martini, Three Tales of the Spirit, Milan 1997, 11.

[3] Francis, Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii Gaudium (24 November 2013), 73-74.

02.04.26 cm

Brothers and sisters, good morning!

Let us continue on our path of reflection on the Church as she is presented to us in the Conciliar Constitution Lumen gentium (LG). Today we will look at the fourth chapter, which deals with the laity. Let us all remember what Pope Francis liked to repeat: “Lay people are, put simply, the vast majority of the people of God. The minority – ordained ministers – are at their service” (Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii gaudium, 102).

This section of the Document seeks to explain, in positive terms, the nature and mission of the laity, after centuries in which they had been defined simply as those who are not part of the clergy or the consecrated life. For this reason, I would like to revisit with you a very beautiful passage that speaks to the greatness of the Christian condition: “Therefore, the chosen People of God is one: ‘one Lord, one faith, one baptism’ (Eph 4:5); sharing a common dignity as members from their regeneration in Christ, having the same filial grace and the same vocation to perfection; possessing in common one salvation, one hope and one undivided charity” (LG, 32).

Before any distinction of ministry or state of life, the Council affirms the equality of all the baptized. The Constitution does not want us to forget what it had already affirmed in the chapter on the People of God, namely that the condition of the messianic people is the dignity and freedom of the children of God (cf. LG, 9).

Naturally, the greater the gift, the greater the commitment too. For this reason, the Council, along with dignity, also emphasises the mission of the laity in the Church and in the world. But on what is this mission founded, and in what does it consist? The very description of the laity offered by the Council tells us: “The term laity is here understood to mean all the faithful… [who] are by baptism made one body with Christ and are constituted among the People of God; they are in their own way made sharers in the priestly, prophetical, and kingly functions of Christ; and they carry out for their own part the mission of the whole Christian people in the Church and in the world” (LG, 31).

The holy People of God, therefore, is never a formless mass, but the body of Christ or, as Saint Augustine said, the Christus totus; it is a community organically structured by means of the fruitful relationship between the two forms of participation in the priesthood of Christ: the common priesthood of the faithful and the ministerial priesthood (cf. LG, 10). By virtue of Baptism, the lay faithful participate in the very priesthood of Christ. Indeed, “the supreme and eternal Priest, Christ Jesus, since He wills to continue His witness and service also through the laity, vivifies them in this Spirit and increasingly urges them on to every good and perfect work” (LG, 34).

In this regard, how can we fail to recall Saint John Paul II and his Apostolic Exhortation Christifideles laici (30 December 1988)? In it, he emphasised that “the Council, with its rich doctrinal, spiritual and pastoral patrimony, has written as never before on the nature, dignity, spirituality, mission and responsibility of the lay faithful. And the Council Fathers, re-echoing the call of Christ, have summoned all the lay faithful, both women and men, to labour in the vineyard” ( no. 2). In this way, my venerable Predecessor relaunched the apostolate of the laity, to which the Council dedicated a specific Document, which we will talk about later. [1]

The vast field of the lay apostolate is not confined to the Church, but extends to the world. Indeed, the Church is present wherever her children profess and bear witness to the Gospel: in the workplace, in civil society and in all human relationships, wherever they, through their choices, show the beauty of Christian life, which foretells here and now the justice and peace that will be accomplished in the Kingdom of God. The world needs to “be permeated by the spirit of Christ, and more effectively fulfil its purpose in justice, charity and peace” (LG, 36). And this is possible only through the contribution, service and witness of the laity!

It is an invitation to be the “outgoing” Church that Pope Francis spoke to us about: a Church embodied in history, always open to mission, in which we are all called to be missionary disciples, apostles of the Gospel, witnesses of the Kingdom of God, bearers of the joy of Christ whom we have encountered!

Brothers and sisters, may the Easter we are preparing to celebrate renew in us the grace to be, like Mary Magdalene, like Peter and John, witnesses of the Risen One!

[1] Cf. Second Vatican Ecumenical Council, Decree Apostolicam actuositatem (18 November 1965).

I extend a warm welcome to all the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors taking part in today’s Audience, especially those coming from Nigeria, the Philippines and the United States of America. I greet in particular the students participating in the 2026 UNIV International University Conference. May this Holy Week lead us to celebrate the resurrection of the Lord Jesus with hearts that are purified and renewed by the grace of the Holy Spirit. Upon all of you and your families, I invoke the joy and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ. God bless you all!

I thank everyone for this meeting, wishing each of you that the days of Holy Week may be a propitious occasion to strengthen your faith and your adherence to the Gospel.

My thoughts also turn to young people, the sick, and newlyweds. May the Paschal Mystery, which we contemplate in these days, give you encouragement to make your lives a joyful service to others, especially the most vulnerable.

My blessing to everyone!

01.04.26

Dear brothers and sisters,

As Jesus walks the Way of the Cross, we place ourselves behind him, following in his footsteps. As we walk with him, we contemplate his passion for the sake of humanity, his broken heart, and his life as a gift of love.

We turn our gaze to Jesus, who reveals himself as King of Peace, even as war looms abounds him. He remains steadfast in meekness, while others are stirring up violence. He offers himself to embrace humanity, even as others raise swords and clubs. He is the light of the world, though darkness is about to engulf the earth. He came to bring life, even as plans unfold to condemn him to death.

King of Peace. Jesus’ desire is to bring the world into the Father’s arms, tearing down every barrier that separates us from God and from our neighbour, for “He is our peace” (Eph 2:14).

King of Peace. Jesus enters into Jerusalem not upon a horse, but upon a donkey, fulfilling the ancient prophecy that calls for rejoicing at the arrival of the Messiah: “Lo, your king comes to you; triumphant and victorious is he, humble and riding on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey. He will cut off the chariot from Ephraim and the war-horse from Jerusalem; and the battle bow shall be cut off, and he shall command peace to the nations” (Zech 9:9–10).

King of Peace. When one of his disciples drew his sword to defend him and struck the high priest’s servant, Jesus immediately stopped him, saying: “Put your sword back into its place, for all who take the sword will perish by the sword” (Mt 26:52).

King of Peace. While he was burdened with our sufferings and pierced for our sins, Jesus “did not open his mouth, like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent” (Is 53:7). He did not arm himself, or defend himself, or fight any war. He revealed the gentle face of God, who always rejects violence. Rather than saving himself, he allowed himself to be nailed to the cross, embracing every cross borne in every time and place throughout human history.

Brothers and sisters, this is our God: Jesus, King of Peace, who rejects war, whom no one can use to justify war. He does not listen to the prayers of those who wage war, but rejects them, saying: “Even though you make many prayers, I will not listen: your hands are full of blood” (Is 1:15).

As we set our gaze upon him who was crucified for us, we can see a crucified humanity. In his wounds, we see the hurts of so many women and men today. In his last cry to the Father, we hear the weeping of those who are crushed, who have no hope, who are sick and who are alone. Above all, we hear the painful groans of all those who are oppressed by violence and are victims of war.

Christ, King of Peace, cries out again from his cross: God is love! Have mercy! Lay down your weapons! Remember that you are brothers and sisters!

In the words of the Servant of God, Bishop Tonino Bello, I would like to entrust this cry to Mary Most Holy, who stands beneath the cross of her Son and weeps also at the feet of those who are crucified today:

“Holy Mary, woman of the third day, grant us the certainty that, in spite of all, death will no longer hold sway over us; that the injustices of peoples are numbered; that the flashes of war are fading into the twilight; that the sufferings of the poor are breathing their last. And grant, finally, that the tears of all the victims of violence and pain will soon be dried up like frost beneath the spring sun” (Maria, donna dei nostri giorni).

Dear brothers and sisters,

At the beginning of Holy Week, our prayers are more than ever with the Christians of the Middle East, who are suffering the consequences of a brutal conflict and, in many cases, are unable to observe fully the liturgies of these holy days.  Just as the Church contemplates the mystery of the Lord’s Passion, we cannot forget those who today are truly sharing in his suffering.  Their ordeal challenges all our consciences.  Let us raise our prayer to the Prince of Peace that he may sustain the peoples wounded by war and open concrete paths to reconciliation and peace.

I also wish to entrust to the Lord the maritime workers who have fallen victim to the conflict.  I pray for the deceased, the wounded and their families. Land, sky and sea were all created for life and peace!

Let us also pray for all the migrants who have died at sea, especially those who lost their lives in recent days off the coast of Crete.

I greet and thank all of you – both Romans and pilgrims – who have taken part in this liturgy!  Together, let us now turn to the Virgin Mary, entrusting all our prayers to her intercession.  May she guide us during these holy days, so that we may follow Jesus, our Saviour, with faith and love.

29.03.26

Dear brothers and sisters,

The Gospel we have heard (cf. Jn 11:45–57) recounts the cruel sentence issued against Jesus; it tells us of the day when the members of the Sanhedrin “planned to put him to death” (v. 53).  Why does this happen to him?  It is because he raised Lazarus from the dead, restoring life to his friend, at whose tomb he had wept, sharing in the grief of Martha and Mary.  Jesus, who came into the world to free us from the condemnation of death, is himself condemned to death.  This is not a matter of fate, but a deliberate and carefully considered decision.

The verdict of Caiaphas and the Sanhedrin stemmed from a political calculation based on fear: if Jesus continued to inspire hope and turn the people’s sorrow into joy, “the Romans would come” and devastate the nation (v. 48).  Rather than recognising the Nazarene as the Messiah — the long-awaited Christ — the religious leaders saw him as a threat.  As teachers of the Law, their vision was so distorted that they violated the precepts of the Law themselves.  Forgetting God’s promise to his people, they sought to kill the innocent, and behind their fear lay a desire to keep hold of power.  Although they had forgotten the Law, which commands, “Thou shalt not kill,” God did not forget the promise that would prepare the world for salvation.  His providence turned that murderous verdict into the means of revealing an act of supreme love: however wicked Caiaphas may have been, he “prophesied that Jesus was about to die for the nation” (v. 51).

We are thus witnesses to two opposing forces: on the one hand, the revelation of God, who presents himself as the almighty Lord and Saviour; and on the other, the hidden schemes of powerful authorities who are eager to kill without scruples.  Does this not also happen today?  Where these forces converge, there lies the sign of Jesus: the giving of one’s life.  This sign is foreshadowed in the resurrection of Lazarus, which is the closest prophecy of the events that would later unfold in the passion, death and resurrection of Christ.  At Passover, the Son would fulfil the Father’s work through the power of the Holy Spirit.  Just as God brought life into being from nothing at the beginning of time, so in the fullness of time he redeems every life from death, the source of destruction in creation.

The joy and the strength of our witness come from redemption, in every place and at every time.  Indeed, our own stories are encompassed within Jesus’ story, beginning with the lives of the vulnerable and oppressed.  Even today, how many plots are devised around the world to kill the innocent!  How many excuses are made to justify their elimination!  Yet, despite the persistence of evil, God’s eternal justice always rescues us from our graves, as it did with Lazarus, and gives us new life.  The Lord frees us from pain by instilling hope.  He converts our hardened hearts by transforming power into service, revealing the true name of his omnipotence: mercy.  It is mercy that saves the world.  It nurtures every human life in all its frailty, from the moment it grows in the womb until it withers away.  As Pope Francis taught us, the culture of mercy rejects the throwaway culture.

As we have heard, the voices of the prophets testify to how God carries out his plan of salvation.  In the first reading, Ezekiel proclaims that God’s work begins with liberation (Ez 37:23) and is realised through the sanctification of the people (cf. v. 28), who are on a journey of conversion, much like our own Lenten journey.  This is an invitation to become involved, rather than remaining at a private or individual level, so that our relationships with God and with our Neighbours can be transformed.

First, liberation takes the form of a purification from the “idols” that defiled the people (v. 23).  But what are idols?  The prophet uses this term to refer to all those things that enslave our hearts, deceiving and corrupting them.  The word “idol” means “small idea,” that is, a diminished vision, which undermines not only the glory of the Almighty by transforming him into an object, but also the human mind. Idolaters are thus narrow-minded people who look at what captivates their gaze, ultimately darkening it.  And so, the great and wonderful things of this earth become idols and bring about forms of slavery — not for those who lack these things, but those who gorge themselves on them, leaving their neighbour in misery and sorrow.  Liberation from idols is thus deliverance from power understood as dominion, from wealth turned into greed, from vanity masquerading as beauty.

God does not abandon us when these temptations come, but reaches out to those who are weak and sorrowful, to those who believe that the idols of the world can save them.  As Saint Augustine taught, “man is liberated from their dominion when he believes in him who has given an example of humility” (De Civitate Dei, VII, 33).  This example is the very life of Jesus, God made man for our salvation. Rather than punishing us, he destroyed evil through his love, thus fulfilling the solemn promise: “I will purify them; they shall be my people, and I will be their God” (Ez 37:23). The Lord changed the course of history by calling us from idolatry to true faith, from death to life.

Therefore, dear brothers and sisters, in the face of the many injustices that afflict peoples and the wars that tear nations apart, the words of the prophet Jeremiah, proclaimed today as a psalm, resound with strength: “I will turn their mourning into joy, I will gladden them, I will comfort them after their sorrow” (Jer 31:13).  Idolatry makes people slaves of each other, but purification from idolatry sanctifies them.  It is a gift of grace that makes people children of God, and brothers and sisters to one another.  This gift sheds light on our present, for the wars that stain it with blood are the fruit of the idolatry of power and money.  Every life cut short wounds the body of Christ.  Let us not grow accustomed to the clamour of weapons and images of war!  Peace is not merely a balance of power; it is the work of purified hearts, of those who see others as brothers and sisters to be protected, not enemies to be defeated.

The Church in Monaco is called to bear witness to living in peace and with God’s blessing.  Therefore, dear friends, bring happiness to others through your faith, by manifesting authentic joy, which is not won through a wager, but shared through charity.  God’s love is the source of this joy: love for new and vulnerable life, which should always be welcomed and cared for; love for the young and the elderly, who should receive encouragement through life’s challenges; love for the healthy and the sick, who are sometimes alone, and are always in need of attentive accompaniment.  May the Virgin Mary, your Patroness, help you provide a welcoming and dignified space for the little ones and the poor, and to promote integral and inclusive development.

In the world’s prolonged Lent, when evil rages and idolatry makes hearts indifferent, the Lord prepares his Easter.  Human beings are the sign of this event: Lazarus, for he was called from the tomb; we, who are forgiven sinners; the Risen Crucified One, who is the author of salvation.  He is “the way, the truth, and the life” (Jn 14:6), sustaining our pilgrimage and the Church’s mission in the world, which is to give God’s life.  This task is sublime and seemingly impossible, unless we give our lives to our neighbour.  It is an exciting and fruitful task, and the Gospel shines a light for our steps.

28.03.26 m

Dear brothers and sisters, good morning and welcome!

We will continue our catecheses on the Documents of the Second Vatican Council, commenting on the Dogmatic Constitution Lumen gentium on the Church (LG). After presenting her as the People of God, today we will consider her hierarchical form.

The Catholic Church is founded on the Apostles, whom Christ appointed as the living pillars of His mystical Body, and possesses a hierarchical structure that works in the service of the unity, mission and sanctification of all her members. This sacred Order is permanently founded on the Apostles (cf. Eph 2:20; Rev 21:14), as authoritative witnesses to the resurrection of Jesus (cf. Acts 1:22; 1 Cor 15:7) and sent by the Lord Himself on mission into the world (cf. Mk 16:15; Mt 28:19). Since the Apostles are called to faithfully preserve the Master’s salvific teaching (cf. 2 Tim 1:13–14), they hand on their ministry to men who, until Christ’s return, continue to sanctify, guide and instruct the Church “through their successors in pastoral office” (Catechism of the Catholic Church, no. 857).

This apostolic succession, founded on the Gospel and in the Tradition, is explored further in Chapter III of Lumen gentium, entitled “On the hierarchical structure of the Church and in particular on the Episcopate”. The Council teaches that the hierarchical structure is not a human construct, functional to the internal organisation of the Church as a social body (cf. LG, 8), but a divine institution whose purpose is to perpetuate the mission given by Christ to the Apostles until the end of time.

The fact that this theme is addressed in Chapter III, after the first two chapters have considered the very essence of the Church (cf. Acta Synodalia III/1, 209–210), does not imply that the hierarchical constitution is a subsequent element with respect to the People of God: as the Decree Ad gentes notes, “the Apostles were the first budding-forth of the New Israel, and at the same time the beginning of the sacred hierarchy” (no. 5), inasmuch as they were the community of those redeemed by Christ’s Paschal Mystery, established as a means of salvation for the world.

To understand the Council’s intention, it is advisable to read carefully the title of Chapter III of Lumen gentium, which explains the fundamental structure of the Church, received from God the Father through the Son and brought to fulfilment by the outpouring of the Holy Spirit. The Council Fathers did not want to present the institutional elements of the Church, as the noun “constitution” might imply if understood in the modern sense. The Document concentrates instead on the “ministerial or hierarchical priesthood”, which differs “in essence and not only in degree” from the common priesthood of the faithful, recalling that the latter are “nonetheless interrelated: each of them in its own special way is a participation in the one priesthood of Christ” (LG, 10). The Council thus addresses the ministry conferred upon men endowed with sacra potestas, sacred power (cf. LG, 18) for service in the Church: it focuses in particular on the episcopate (LG, 18–27), then on the priesthood (LG, 28) and the diaconate (LG, 29) as degrees of the one sacrament of Holy Orders.

By the adjective “hierarchical”, therefore, the Council intends to indicate the sacred origin of the apostolic ministry in the action of Jesus, the Good Shepherd, as well as its internal relationships. The Bishops, first and foremost, and through them the priests and deacons, have received tasks (in Latin munera), which lead them to the service of “all those who belong to the People of God”, so that, “working toward a common goal freely and in an orderly way, [they] may arrive at salvation” (LG, 18).

Lumen gentium repeatedly and effectively recalls the collegial and communal nature of this apostolic mission, reaffirming that the “duty which the Lord committed to the shepherds of His people is a true service, which in sacred literature is significantly called ‘diakonia’ or ministry” (LG, 24). We can therefore understand why Saint Paul VI presented the hierarchy as a reality “born of the charity of Christ, to fulfil, spread and ensure the intact and fruitful transmission of the wealth of faith, examples, precepts and charisms bequeathed by Christ to His Church” (Address, 14 September 1964, in Acta Synodalia III/1, 147).

Dear sisters and dear brothers, let us pray to the Lord that He may send to His Church ministers who are ardent with evangelical charity, dedicated to the good of all the baptised, and courageous missionaries in every part of the world.

I extend a warm welcome to all the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors taking part in today’s Audience, especially those coming from England, Ireland, Tanzania, Israel, Saudi Arabia and the United States of America. I greet in particular the students of the University of Dallas Rome Program. As we continue our Lenten journey, let us ask the Lord to grant us the grace to imitate Our Blessed Mother in her total “yes” to the Lord, and so open our hearts to his will for our lives. Upon all of you and your families, I invoke the joy and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ. God bless you all!

Lastly, my thoughts turn to the young people, the sick and the newlyweds. May the Solemnity of the Annunciation of the Lord, which we celebrate today, be an invitation for everyone to follow the example of Mary Most Holy in order to be ready to do God's will always.

My blessing to you all!

25.03.26

Dear brothers and sisters, good morning!

On this Fifth Sunday of Lent, the liturgy proclaims the Gospel of the raising of Lazarus (cf. Jn 11:1-45).

In the Lenten journey, this is a sign that speaks of Christ’s victory over death and of the gift of eternal life, which we receive through Baptism (cf. Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1265). Today Jesus also says to us, as he did to Martha, Lazarus’s sister: “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die” (Jn 11:25-26).

The liturgy thus invites us, in light of the fact that Holy Week is drawing near, to relive the events of the Lord’s Passion — the entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, the trial, the crucifixion, the burial — so that we may grasp their most authentic meaning and open ourselves to the gift of grace they contain.

These events are fulfilled in the risen Christ, who has conquered death and lives within us through Baptism, for our salvation and the fullness of life.

His grace illumines this world, which seems to constantly search for novelty and change, even at the cost of sacrificing important things — time, energy, values, affections — as if fame, material goods, entertainment and fleeting relationships could fill our hearts or make us immortal. It is a symptom of a longing for the infinite that each of us carries within us, a need that cannot be satisfied by passing things. Nothing finite can quench our inner thirst, for we are made for God, and we find no peace until we rest in him (cf. Confessions, I, 1.1).

The account of the resurrection of Lazarus, then, invites us to listen to this profound need and, with the power of the Holy Spirit, to free our hearts from habits, conditioning and ways of thinking which, like boulders, shut us away in the tomb of selfishness, materialism, violence and superficiality. In these places there is no life, but only confusion, dissatisfaction and loneliness.

Jesus also cries out to us: “Come out!” (Jn 11:43), urging us to emerge from these cramped spaces, renewed by his grace, to walk in the light of love, as new women and men, capable of hoping and loving, without calculation and without measure, according to the model of his infinite charity.

May the Virgin Mary help us to live these holy days with her faith, her trust and her fidelity, so that the glorious experience of encountering her risen Son may be renewed in us each day.

With dismay I continue to follow the situation in the Middle East, which like other regions of the world is torn apart by war and violence. We cannot remain silent in the face of the suffering of so many defenceless people who are victims of these conflicts. What hurts them hurts all of humanity. The death and pain caused by these wars is a scandal for the entire human family and a cry that rises to God! I strongly renew my appeal to persevere in prayer, so that hostilities may cease and paths to peace may finally open up, based on sincere dialogue and respect for the dignity of every human person.

Today the Rome Marathon is taking place, with countless athletes from all over the world. This is a sign of hope! May sport pave the way for peace, social inclusion, and spirituality.

I extend my heartfelt greetings to all of you, Romans and pilgrims from various countries, especially those who have come from the Diocese of Córdoba in Spain.

I joyfully welcome the faithful from Belluno and Pordenone, from Crotone and from the parish of Santa Maria delle Grazie in Rome. I greet the young people from Nave, the Diocese of Brescia, the group of Confirmation candidates from the Diocese of Florence and the representatives of the Associazione Direttori di Albergo. 

I wish everyone a happy Sunday!

22.03.26

Dear brothers and sisters, good morning and welcome!

Today I would like to revisit the second chapter of the Conciliar Constitution Lumen gentium (LG), devoted to the Church as the people of God.

The messianic people (LG, 9), receive from Christ the participation in the priestly, prophetic and kingly work office through which his salvific mission is carried out. The Council Fathers teach that the Lord Jesus, through the new and eternal Covenant, has established a kingdom of priests, constituting his disciples as a ‘royal priesthood’ (1 Pet 2:9; cf. 1 Pet 2:5; Rev 1:6). This common priesthood of the faithful is given with Baptism, which enables us to worship God in spirit and truth, and to “confess before men the faith which they have received from God through the Church” (LG, 11). Furthermore, through the sacrament of Confirmation, all the baptised “are more perfectly bound to the Church … and the Holy Spirit endows them with special strength so that they are more strictly obliged to spread and defend the faith, both by word and by deed, as true witnesses of Christ” (ibid.). This consecration is at the root of the common mission that unites the ordained ministries and the lay faithful.

In this regard, Pope Francis observed that, “Looking at the People of God is remembering that we all enter the Church as lay people. The first sacrament, which seals our identity forever, and of which we should always be proud, is Baptism. Through Baptism and by the anointing of the Holy Spirit, (the faithful) ‘are consecrated as a spiritual house and a holy priesthood’ (LG, 10), [so that] everyone forms the faithful Holy People of God” (Letter to the President of the Pontifical Commission for Latin America, 19 March 2016).

The exercise of the royal priesthood takes place in many ways, all aimed at our sanctification, first and foremost through participation in the offering of the Eucharist. Through prayer, asceticism and active charity, we thus bear witness to a life renewed by God’s grace (cf. LG, 10). As the Council summaries, “it is through the sacraments and the exercise of the virtues that the sacred nature and organic structure of the priestly community is brought into operation” (LG, 11).

The Council Fathers then teach that the holy People of God also participate in the prophetic mission of Christ (cf. LG, 12). In this context, the important theme of the sense of the faith and the consensus of the faithful is introduced. The Doctrinal Commission of the Council specified that this sensus fidei “is like a faculty of the whole Church, by which she, in her faith, recognises the revelation handed down, distinguishing between true and false in matters of faith, and at the same time penetrates it more deeply and applies it more fully in life” (cf. Acta Synodalia, III/1, 199). The sense of faith therefore belongs to individual believers not in their own right, but as members of the People of God as a whole.

Lumen gentium focuses on this latter aspect, and places it in relation to the infallibility of the Church, to which that of the Roman Pontiff is inherent and by which it is served. “The entire body of the faithful, anointed as they are by the Holy One (c. 1 Jn 2:20,27), cannot err in matters of belief. They manifest this special property by means of the whole peoples’ supernatural discernment in matters of faith when from the Bishops down to the last of the lay faithful they show universal agreement in matters of faith and morals” (LG, 12). The Church, therefore, as the communion of the faithful – which naturally includes the pastors – cannot err in matters of faith: the organ through which this truth is preserved, founded on the anointing of the Holy Spirit, is the supernatural sense of faith of the entire People of God, which is manifested in the consensus of the faithful. From this unity, which the Magisterium of the Church safeguards, it follows that every baptized person is an active agent of evangelisation, called to bear consistent witness to Christ in accordance with the prophetic gift which the Lord bestows upon His whole Church.

Indeed, the Holy Spirit, who comes to us from the Risen Christ, “distributes special graces among the faithful of every rank. By these gifts He makes them fit and ready to undertake the various tasks and offices which contribute toward the renewal and building up of the Church” (LG, 12). A particular demonstration of this charismatic vitality is offered by consecrated life, which continually germinates and flourishes through the work of grace. Ecclesial associations, too, are a shining example of the variety and fruitfulness of spiritual fruits for the edification of the People of God.

I greet all the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors taking part in today’s Audience, particularly the groups from Nigeria, Tanzania, Indonesia, the Philippines, Thailand and the United States of America. With prayerful good wishes that this Lent will be a time of grace and spiritual renewal for you and your families, I invoke upon all of you joy and peace in our Lord Jesus Christ.

Finally, my thoughts turn to the sick, newlyweds, and young people, especially those at the Cristo Re School in Rome and the San Giorgio Institute in Pavia. I entrust the resolutions and aspirations of each one to Saint Joseph, heavenly Patron of the Universal Church, whose liturgical solemnity we will celebrate tomorrow.

My blessing to everyone!

18.03.26

Dear brothers and sisters,

Our Eucharistic celebration today, more than ever, is filled with joy. Indeed, the beauty of our gathering today is set against the backdrop of the Sunday known as “Laetare”, meaning “rejoice”, taken from the words of Isaiah: “Rejoice with Jerusalem” (Entrance Antiphon, cf. Is 66:10).

This gives us cause to reflect. At present, many of our brothers and sisters throughout the world are suffering because of violent conflicts, caused by the absurd claim that problems and differences can be resolved through war, whereas we must engage in unceasing dialogue for peace. Some even go so far as to invoke God’s name in these choices of death, but God cannot be enlisted by darkness. Rather, He always comes to bestow light, hope and peace upon humanity, and it is peace that those who invoke Him must seek.

It is this Sunday’s message: no matter how deep the abyss into which a person may fall because of their sins, Christ comes to bring a brighter light, capable of freeing them from the blindness of evil, so that they may begin a new life.

The encounter between Jesus and the man born blind (cf. Jn 9:1-41) can, in fact, be likened to the scene of a birth, through which the man, like a child coming into the world, discovers a new world, seeing himself, others and life through the eyes of God (cf. 1 Sam 16:9).

Let us ask ourselves, then: what does this gaze consist of? What does it reveal? What does it mean to “look with the eyes of God”?

According to the Gospel of John, it means, first and foremost, overcoming the prejudices of those who, when faced with a suffering person, see only an outcast to be despised, or a problem to be avoided, retreating into the fortress of selfish individualism. So often we hear people say things like: “When things were going well, there were plenty of friends; but when the going got tough, many of them left, they vanished!” Jesus does not act in this way: He looks upon the blind man with love, not as an inferior being or a nuisance, but as a loved one in need of help. Thus their encounter becomes an opportunity for God’s work to be revealed in everyone.

In the “sign”, in the miracle, Jesus reveals His divine power and the man, as if retracing the gestures of creation – the mud, the saliva – once again fully reveals his beauty and dignity as a creature made in the image and likeness of God. Thus, having regained his sight, he becomes a witness to the light.

Of course, this involves a great deal of effort: he must get used to so many things previously unknown to him, learn to distinguish colours and shapes, and rebuild his relationships – and it is not easy. Indeed, the hostility surrounding him grows, provoking him, and not even his parents have the courage to defend him (cf. Jn 9:18–23). It almost seems, absurdly, as though those close to him wish to undo what has happened. Not only that: in the interrogation to which the blind man who can now see is subjected, it is above all Jesus who is put on trial, accused of having violated the Sabbath in order to heal him.

Thus, another form of blindness is revealed in those present, one that is different and even more serious: that of failing to see, right before their eyes, the face of God, for which they trade the possibility of a saving encounter for the sterile security afforded by the legalistic observance of a formal discipline. Faced with such obtuseness, Jesus does not stop, showing that no “Sabbath” can stand in the way of an act of love. After all, the meaning of the Sabbath rest for the people of Israel – and for us on Sunday, the Lord’s Day – is precisely to celebrate the mystery of life as a gift, in the face of which no one can ignore the cry for help from a brother or sister who is suffering.

Perhaps, at times, in this sense, we too can be blind, when we fail to notice others and their problems. Jesus, however, asks us to live differently, as the early Christian community well understood, where brothers and sisters, constant in prayer, shared everything with joy and simplicity of heart (cf. Acts 2:42–47). Not that tribulations and obstacles were absent, even in those days. But they did not give up: strengthened by the gift of Baptism, they strove nonetheless to live as new creatures, living in communion and peace with all, and finding in the community a family that accompanied and supported them.

Dear friends, these are the fruits we are called to bear as children of light (cf. 1 Thess 5:4–5); and for some ninety years your parish has faithfully lived out this mission, with special care for situations of poverty, marginalization and emergency, paying attention to the presence, within its territory, of the Rebibbia Prison, and through many other signs of sensitivity and solidarity.

I know that you help many brothers and sisters from other countries to settle here: to learn the language, to find decent housing and to find honest and secure work. There is no shortage of difficulties, unfortunately sometimes exacerbated by those who, without scruples, take advantage of the destitute condition of the most vulnerable to further their own interests. I am, however, aware of how committed you all are to facing these challenges, through the services of Caritas, the family homes providing shelter for women and mothers in difficulty, and many other initiatives. I am also aware of the vitality and generosity with which you devote yourselves to the education of young people and children, through the oratory and other educational programmes.

Saint Augustine, speaking about the face of God, of which we are called to be a mirror in the world, said to the Christians of his time: “What sort of face hath love? What form hath it? What stature? What feet? What hands hath it? … It hath feet, for these carry men to church: it hath hands; for these reach forth to the poor: it hath eyes; for thereby we consider the needy” (In Epistolam Joannis ad Parthos, 7, 10), and added, referring to charity: “Take it, clasp it; there is nothing sweeter” (ibid.).

Dearest brothers and sisters, here is the gift of light entrusted to you, so that you may nurture it within yourselves and amongst yourselves in all its sweetness, and spread it throughout the world through prayer, frequent reception of the sacraments, and charity. Continue to commit yourselves in this way on your journey.

May the Sacred Heart of Jesus, to whom your parish is dedicated, continue to shape and protect this beautiful community, so that, with the same sentiments as Christ (cf. Phil 2:5), you may live out and bear witness with joy and dedication to the treasure of grace you have received.

Many thanks for this beautiful gift: here is a photo of the parish, to serve as a constant reminder, but here we can see the life of the parish, which is so important! Thank you to all of you!

And we present this chalice as a small gift to the parish, representing what we celebrate in the Eucharist: the body and blood of Christ, the communion among all of you. Best wishes to you all, and thank you!

15.03.26 m

Dear brothers and sisters, happy Sunday!

The Gospel reading for the Fourth Sunday of Lent narrates the healing of a man blind from birth (cf. Jn 9:1–41). Through the symbolism of this account, John the Evangelist speaks to us of the mystery of salvation: while we were in darkness, while humanity walked in gloom (cf. Is 9:2), God sent his Son as the light of the world, to open the eyes of the blind and illuminate our lives.

The prophets had announced that the Messiah would open the eyes of the blind (cf. Is 29:18; 35:5; Ps 146:8). Jesus himself confirmed the authenticity of his mission by showing that “the blind receive their sight” (Mt 11:5), and he presented himself with the words: “I am the light of the world” (Jn 8:12). Certainly, all of us can say that we are “blind from birth,” for by ourselves we cannot see the mystery of life in all its depth. That is why God became flesh in Jesus, so that the clay of our humanity, shaped by the breath of his grace, might receive a new light, one capable of helping us to see ourselves, others and God in truth.

It is striking that, over the centuries, the opinion has spread and persists to this day that faith is a kind of “leap in the dark,” a renunciation of thought, such that having faith would mean believing “blindly.” However, the Gospel shows us that through contact with Christ, our eyes are opened. Indeed, the religious authorities ask the healed blind man with insistence: “Then how were your eyes opened?” (Jn 9:10); and again: “How did he open your eyes?” (v. 26).

Brothers and sisters, we too are healed by the love of Christ and are called to live our faith with “open eyes.” Faith is not a blind act, a forsaking of reason or a retreat into some sort of religious certainty that causes us to turn our gaze away from the world. On the contrary, faith helps us to see things “as Jesus himself sees them, with his own eyes: it is a participation in his way of seeing” (Lumen Fidei, 18). In this sense, faith is an invitation to “open our eyes,” as the Lord did, especially towards the suffering of others and the afflictions of the world.

Today, in a particular way, in the face of the many questions of the human heart, as well as the tragic situations of injustice, violence and suffering that mark our time, it is essential that our faith be alert, attentive and prophetic. It should likewise open our eyes to the darkness of the world, and bring to others the light of the Gospel through our commitment to peace, justice and solidarity.

Let us ask the Virgin Mary to intercede for us, so that the light of Christ may open the eyes of our hearts and enable us to bear witness to him with simplicity and courage.

Dear brothers and sisters,

For two weeks now, the peoples of the Middle East have been suffering the horrific violence of war. Thousands of innocent people have been killed, and countless others have been forced to flee their homes. I renew my prayerful closeness to all who have lost loved ones in the attacks, which have struck schools, hospitals and residential areas.

The situation in Lebanon is a cause for great concern. I hope that avenues for dialogue will emerge to support the country’s Authorities in implementing lasting solutions to the serious crisis currently unfolding, for the common good of all the Lebanese people.

On behalf of the Christians of the Middle East, and of all women and men of good will, I appeal to those responsible for this conflict: cease fire! May paths of dialogue be reopened! Violence can never lead to the justice, stability and peace for which the peoples are waiting.

I welcome all of you gathered here today in Saint Peter’s Square.

I greet the faithful who have come from Valencia and Barcelona in Spain, as well as those from Palermo.

With joy, I welcome several groups of young people preparing to receive the Sacrament of Confirmation: from Berceto, Diocese of Parma; from Tuto, Diocese of Florence; from Torre Maina and Gorzano, Diocese of Modena-Nonantola. I also greet the young people from the parish of Saint Gregory the Great in Rome, and from Capriano del Colle and Azzano Mella, Diocese of Brescia.

I wish all of you a happy Sunday.

15.03.26 a

Dear brothers and sisters, good morning and welcome!

Continuing in our reflection on the Dogmatic Constitution Lumen gentium (LG), today we will look at the second chapter, dedicated to the People of God.

God, who created the world and humanity, and who wishes to save every man, carries out his work of salvation in history, choosing a real people and dwelling among them. For this reason, He calls Abraham and promises him descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky and the sand on the seashore (cf. Gen 22:17-18). With Abraham’s children, after freeing them from slavery, God makes a covenant with them, accompanies them, cares for them, and gathers them together whenever they stray. Therefore, the identity of this people is given by God’s action and by faith in Him. They are called to become a light for other nations, like a beacon that will draw all peoples, the whole of humanity, to itself (cf. Is 2:1-5).

The Council affirms that “All these things, however, were done by way of preparation and as a figure of that new and perfect covenant, which was to be ratified in Christ, and of that fuller revelation which was to be given through the Word of God Himself made flesh” ( LG, 9). Indeed, it is Christ who, in giving His Body and His Blood, unites this people in Himself and in a definitive way. It is a people now made up of members of every nation; it is united by faith in Him, by adherence to Him, by living the same life as Him, animated by the Spirit of the Risen One. This is the Church: the people of God who draw their existence from the body of Christ [1] and who are themselves the body of Christ; [2] not a people like any other, but the People of God, called together by Him and made up of women and men from all the peoples of the earth. Its unifying principle is not a language, a culture, an ethnicity, but faith in Christ: the Church is therefore – according to a splendid expression of the Council – the assembly of “all those who in faith look upon Jesus” ( LG, 9).

It is a messianic people, precisely because it has Christ, the Messiah, as its head. Those who belong to it do not pride themselves on merits or titles, but only on the gift of being, in Christ and through Him, daughters and sons of God. Above any task or function, therefore, what really matters in the Church is to be grafted onto Christ, to be children of God by grace. This is also the only honorary title we should seek as Christians. We are in the Church in order to receive life from the Father unceasingly and to live as His children and brothers and sisters among ourselves. Consequently, the law that animates relationships in the Church is love, as we receive and experience it in Jesus; and her goal is the Kingdom of God, towards which she walks together with all humanity.

Unified in Christ, Lord and Saviour of every man and woman, the Church can never turn inwards on herself, but is open to everyone and is for everyone. If believers in Christ belong to it, the Council reminds us that “All men are called to belong to the new people of God. Wherefore this people, remaining one and unique, must extend to the whole world and to all ages, so that the intention of God’s will may be fulfilled, who in the beginning created human nature as one and wants to gather together his children who were scattered” (LG, 13). Even those who have not yet received the Gospel are therefore, in some way, oriented towards the people of God, and the Church, cooperating in Christ’s mission, is called upon to spread the Gospel everywhere and to everyone (cf. LG 17), so that every person may enter into contact with Christ. This means that in the Church there is, and there must be, a place for everyone, and that every Christian is called to proclaim the Gospel and bear witness in every environment in which he or she lives and works. Thus, this people shows its catholicity, welcoming the wealth and resources of different cultures and, at the same time, offering them the newness of the Gospel to purify them and to raise them up (cf. LG, 13).

In this regard, the Church is one but includes everyone. A great theologian described it thus: “The unique Ark of Salvation must welcome all human diversity into its vast nave. The only banquet hall, the food it distributes is drawn from all of creation. The seamless garment of Christ, it is also – and it is the same thing – the garment of Joseph, with its many colours”. [3]

It is a great sign of hope – especially in our times, traversed by so many conflicts and wars – to know that the Church is a people in which women and men of different nationalities, languages and cultures live together in faith: it is a sign placed in the very heart of humanity, a reminder and prophecy of that unity and peace to which God the Father calls all his children.

[1] Cf. J. Ratzinger, The New People of God, Brescia 1992, 97.

[2] Cf. Y. M.-J. Congar, A Messianic People, Brescia 1976, 75.

[3] Cf. H. de Lubac, Catholicism: A study of dogma in relation to the corporate destiny of mankind (Catholicisme: Les aspects sociaux du dogme).

Today in Qlayaa, Lebanon, the funeral of Father Pierre El Raii, Maronite parish priest of one of the Christian villages in southern Lebanon, is being celebrated. These villages are once again experiencing the tragedy of war. I am close to all the Lebanese people at this time of grave trial.

In Arabic, “El Raii” means “the shepherd”. Father Pierre was a true shepherd, who always stayed beside his people, with the love and sacrifice of Jesus the Good Shepherd. As soon as he heard that some parishioners had been wounded in a bombing, he rushed to help them without hesitation. May the Lord grant that the blood he shed be a seed of peace for beloved Lebanon.

Dear brothers and sisters, let us continue to pray for peace in Iran and throughout the Middle East, especially for the many civilian victims, including many innocent children. May our prayer be a comfort to those who suffer and a seed of hope for the future.

I greet all the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors taking part in today's Audience, particularly the groups from Denmark, Australia and the United States of America. With prayerful good wishes that this Lent will be a time of grace and spiritual renewal for you and your families, I invoke upon all of you joy and peace in our Lord Jesus Christ.

Finally, my thoughts turn to the sick, newlyweds, and young people, especially the students of the Galileo High School in Siena, the San Leone IX Institute in Sessa Aurunca, and the Gadda Institute in Quarto. In this time of Lent, let us continue with commitment on the journey toward Easter, the central mystery of our faith.

11.03.26

Dear brothers and sisters!

I am happy to be with you on this third Sunday of Lent. It is an important stage in our following of Jesus, leading up to His Passion, death and Resurrection at Easter.

On this journey, God’s proximity and our life of faith are deeply intertwined: by renewing in each of us the grace of Baptism, the Lord calls us to conversion, even as He purifies our hearts with His love and with the works of charity He asks us to perform. In this regard, the encounter between Jesus and the Samaritan woman engages us with great intensity. Today’s Gospel, in fact, not only speaks to us, but also speaks about us and helps us to review our relationship with God.

The Samaritan woman’s thirst for life and love is our thirst: that of the Church and of all humanity, wounded by sin but even more intimately inhabited by the desire for God. We seek Him like water, even when we are not aware of this, every time we ask ourselves the meaning of events, every time we feel how much we lack the good that we want for ourselves and for those beside us.

In this search, we encounter Jesus. He is already there, at the well, where the Samaritan woman finds Him alone, under the midday sun, tired from His journey. The woman goes to the well at that unusual time, perhaps to avoid the prejudiced glances of the other women. Jesus reads in her heart the reason for this marginalisation: her failed marriages and her current cohabitation make her unworthy of accompanying the daughters, wives and mothers of the village. Yet Jesus sits by the well as if waiting for her. This surprising encounter is one of the ways with which, as Pope Francis liked to repeat, Christ reveals the God of surprises: the most beautiful, the ones that change our lives, wherever we encounter them and however they present themselves before the Lord.

This man loves the Samaritan woman as no-one has ever done before. While she was looking for her daily water, He wants to give her new, living water, capable of quenching every thirst and calming every anxiety, because this water flows from the heart of God, the inexhaustible fullness of every expectation.

Jesus’ initiative thus inaugurates the search for a good greater than water itself: “If you knew the gift of God”, says the Lord to the woman. It is not a reproach, but a promise: “I am here to make you know God, who gives Himself as a gift to you”. Yes, really for you, who did not know Him, who considered yourself estranged and condemned. This gift will transform you: you yourself will become a spring gushing forth for eternal life. In exchange for your former thirst, filled with bitterness and spiritual dryness, the Son of God offers you the gift of a life renewed by the water that wells from the Father’s mercy. Everything is transformed in the encounter with the Lord: the woman who thirsts becomes a wellspring, the outcast becomes a confidante. The woman full of shame is now filled with joy; she who was silent in the village becomes a missionary to all its inhabitants.

She would never have imagined that she, so disoriented and defeated by life, would one day be able to taste fresh water, a pure gift from God, becoming in turn a gift for others. How does this happen? By encountering Jesus, by dialoguing with Him, the living Word of God made man for our salvation.

The Gospel account accurately shows the woman’s journey of growth, as she gradually recognizes the fundamental characteristics of Jesus’ identity: man, prophet, Messiah and Saviour. By staying close to Him and enjoying His company, the Samaritan woman herself becomes a source of truth. The new water of God’s gift has begun to flow in her heart, and she immediately feels compelled to run back to her village, finally free from shame and eager to tell everyone about her Liberator, Jesus, the One who made all this wonder possible. She runs to those who had previously condemned her, while God has forgiven her, and she tells them, announces, and bears witness. The need for water, which had prompted her to go to the well, now gives way to the desire to communicate the overwhelming newness that has transformed her.

Dear friends, with Baptism we have all received the grace of a new water, which washes away all sin and quenches all thirst. Like the Samaritan woman, we are given today in Lent a time to rediscover the gift of this Sacrament which, like a door, has introduced us to faith and to Christian life. As a good and caring Shepherd, the Lord awaits us and accompanies us always, wherever we live and however we are. He mercifully heals our wounds and gives Himself to us, enabling us to become in turn a gift to our brothers and sisters.

I am well aware that your parish community lives in an area with numerous challenges. There is no lack of troubling situations of marginalisation, material and moral poverty. Even adolescents and young people risk growing up deceived by those who would peddle death, or disillusioned about the future. Many are waiting for a home, a job that will ensure a dignified life, safe environments where they can meet, play and plan something beautiful together.

As at the well in the Gospel, men and women arrive at this parish wounded in their soul, offended in their dignity, and thirsting for hope. You have the urgent and liberating task of showing the closeness of Jesus, His desire to redeem our existence from the ills that threaten it with a proposal for a just, true and full life. Starting from the Eucharist, the beating heart of every Christian community, I encourage you to ensure that the parish activities are a sign of a Church that, like a mother, takes care of her children, without condemning them, but rather welcoming them, listening to them and supporting them in the face of danger. May the word of the Gospel, which flows in us as a source of truth, help each one of us to open our eyes, to know how to evaluate wisely what is good and what is bad, thus forming free and mature consciences.

Dear brothers and sisters, go forward with confidence! In every situation, the Lord walks with us and sustains us along the way. May the Holy Virgin always accompany your steps in faith, and give you the joy of being humble and courageous proclaimers of the Gospel.

08.03.26 m

Dear brothers and sisters, happy Sunday!

Since the first centuries of the Church’s history, the dialogue between Jesus and the Samaritan woman, the healing of the man born blind and the resurrection of Lazarus illuminate the path of those who, at Easter, will receive Baptism and begin a new life. These great Gospel passages, which we read beginning this Sunday, are intended for the catechumens to help them on their journey to become Christians. At the same time, these passages are heard once again by the entire community of believers to help them to be more authentic and joyful Christians.

Indeed, Jesus is the response to our thirst. As he suggested to the Samaritan woman, the encounter with him stirs in the depths of each person “a spring of water gushing up to eternal life” ( Jn 4:14). How many people in the entire world are searching even today for this spiritual spring!  “Sometimes I am there too,” writes the young Etty Hillesum in her diary. “But more often stones and grit block the well, and God is buried beneath. Then he must be dug out again.” [1]  Dear friends, there is no energy better spent than that dedicated to freeing our heart. For this reason, Lent is a gift: we are starting the third week and now we are able to intensify the journey!

It is also written in the Gospel that: “His disciples came [and] they were astonished that he was speaking with a woman” (Jn 4:27). They are reluctant to accept his mission as their own, so the Master has to prompt them: “Do you not say, ‘Four months more, then comes the harvest’? But I tell you, look around you, and see how the fields are ripe for harvesting” (Jn 4:35). The Lord still says to his Church: “Lift up your eyes and recognise God’s surprises!” In the fields, four months prior to the harvest, one sees practically nothing. But there, where we see nothing, grace is already at work and its fruits are ready to be gathered. The harvest is great: perhaps the workers are few because they are distracted by other activities. Jesus, on the other hand, is attentive. According to custom, he ought to have simply ignored that Samaritan woman; instead, Jesus speaks with her, listens to her, and shows her respect – without a hidden agenda and without disdain.

How many people seek in the Church this same sensitivity, this availability! And how beautiful it is when we lose track of time in order to give attention to the person we are encountering, as we see in this passage.  Jesus was so spiritually nourished by God’s desire to reach people on the deepest levels that he even forgot to eat (cf. Jn 4:34). Thus, the Samaritan woman becomes the first of many female evangelisers. Because of her testimony, many from her village of despised and rejected people came to meet Jesus, and also in them faith bubbled forth like pure water.

Sisters and brothers, today let us ask Mary, Mother of the Church, to be able to serve, with Jesus and like Jesus, those men and women thirsting for truth and justice. This is not the time for opposition between one church and another, between “us” and “them”: those who worship God seek to be men and women of peace, who worship him in Spirit and in truth (cf. Jn 4:23-24).

[1] Etty Hillesum, Diary, London 1985, 58-59

Dear brothers and sisters,

Deeply disturbing news continues to arrive from Iran and the entire Middle East.  In addition to the episodes of violence and devastation as well as the widespread climate of hatred and fear, there is also the concern that the conflict will spread and that other countries in the region, including beloved Lebanon, may again sink back into instability.

We lift up our humble prayer to the Lord, so that the thunderous sound of bombs may cease, weapons may fall silent, and a space for dialogue may open up in which the voice of the people can be heard.  I entrust this intention to the Blessed Virgin Mary, Queen of Peace, that she may intercede for those who suffer because of war and lead hearts along the paths of reconciliation and hope.

Today, 8 March, is International Women’s Day.  We renew our commitment, which for us Christians is based on the Gospel, to recognise the equal dignity of man and woman.  Unfortunately many women, from childhood onwards, are still discriminated against and suffer various forms of violence.  In a special way, I offer to them my solidarity and my prayers.

I welcome the students from College Station in Texas, Kansas City in Missouri, and Fort Wayne in Indiana from the United States of America, and from Jerez and Cádiz in Spain, as well as groups of pilgrims from Peru, Panama, Honduras, Mexico and Chile.

I greet the faithful from Brescia, Castrolibero, Gravina di Puglia, Perugia, and from the parishes of San Clemente Papa and San Pio da Pietrelcina in Rome.

I greet the “Casa di Maria” community of Rome, the group of candidates for Confirmation in the Diocese of Orvieto-Todi, the children from Mantova and the rugby team from Rovigo.

I wish everyone a blessed Sunday.

08.03.26 a

Dear brothers and sisters, good morning and welcome!

Today, we will continue our exploration of the Conciliar Constitution Lumen gentium, a dogmatic Constitution on the Church.

In the first chapter, which is primarily intended to answer the question of what the Church is, she is described as a “complex reality” (no. 8). Now we ask ourselves: what does this complexity consist of? Some might answer that the Church is complex in that she is ‘complicated’ and therefore difficult to explain; others might think that her complexity derives from the fact that she is an institution steeped in two thousand years of history, with characteristics that differ from any other social or religious group. In Latin, however, the word ‘complex’ indicates rather the orderly union of different aspects or dimensions within the same reality. For this reason, Lumen gentium can affirm that the Church is a well-organised body, in which the human and divine dimensions coexist without separation and without confusion.

The first dimension is immediately perceptible, in that the Church is a community of men and women who share the joy and struggle of being Christians, with their strengths and weaknesses, proclaiming the Gospel and becoming a sign of the presence of Christ who accompanies us on our journey through life. Yet this aspect – which is also evident in its institutional organisation – is not sufficient to describe the true nature of the Church, because it also has a divine dimension. The latter does not consist in an ideal perfection or spiritual superiority of its members, but in the fact that the Church is generated by God’s plan for humanity, realised in Christ.

Therefore, the Church is at the same time an earthly community and the mystical body of Christ, a visible assembly and a spiritual mystery, a reality present in history and a people journeying towards heaven (LG, 8; CCC, 771).

The human and divine dimensions integrate harmoniously, without one overshadowing the other; thus, the Church lives in this paradox. She is a reality that is both human and divine, which welcomes the sinful man and leads him to God.

To illuminate this ecclesial condition, Lumen gentium refers to the life of Christ. In fact, those who met Jesus along the roads of Palestine experienced his humanity, his eyes, his hands, the sound of his voice. Those who decided to follow him were moved precisely by the experience of his welcoming gaze, the touch of his blessing hands, his words of liberation and healing. At the same time, however, by following that Man, the disciples opened themselves to an encounter with God. Indeed, Christ’s flesh, his face, his gestures and his words visibly manifest the invisible God.

In the light of the reality of Jesus, we can now return to the Church: when we look at her closely, we discover a human dimension made up of real people, who sometimes manifest the beauty of the Gospel and other times struggle and make mistakes like everyone else. However, it is precisely through her members and her limited earthly aspects that Christ’s presence and his saving action are manifested. As Benedict XVI said, there is no opposition between the Gospel and the institution; on the contrary, the structures of the Church serve precisely for the “realisation and concretization of the Gospel in our time” (Address to Swiss Bishops, 9 November 2006). An ideal and pure Church, separated from the earth, does not exist; only the one Church of Christ, embodied in history.

This is what constitutes the holiness of the Church: the fact that Christ dwells in her and continues to give himself through the smallness and fragility of her members. Contemplating this perennial miracle that takes place in her, we understand ‘God's method’: He makes himself visible through the weakness of creatures, continuing to manifest himself and to act. For this reason, Pope Francis, in Evangelii gaudium, exhorts us all to learn “to remove our sandals before the sacred ground of the other (cf. Ex 3:5)” (no. 169). This enables us still today to build up the Church: not only by organising its visible forms, but by building that spiritual edifice which is the body of Christ, through communion and charity among ourselves.

Indeed, charity constantly generates the presence of the Risen One. “If only we could all just let our thoughts dwell on the one thing, charity! It’s the only thing, you see, which both surpasses all things, and without which all things worth nothing, and which draws all things to itself, wherever it may be” (Sermon 354, 6, 6).

I greet all the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors taking part in today’s Audience, particularly the groups from England, India, the Philippines, Singapore, Vietnam and the United States of America. With prayerful good wishes that this Lent will be a time of grace and spiritual renewal for you and your families, I invoke upon all of you joy and peace in our Lord Jesus Christ.

Finally, my thoughts turn to the sick, newlyweds, and young people. Lent exhorts us to recognise Christ as humanity's supreme hope. I invite you, dear young people, to be courageous witnesses of the Gospel, to have a positive impact in the various spheres of life. To you, dear sick people, I commend the virtue of patience, so that your suffering, united with that of Christ, may be a pleasing offering to the Father. And I encourage you, dear newlyweds, to discover the value of prayer in the "domestic church" you have formed. My blessing to all!

04.03.26

Dear brothers and sisters,

I am pleased to be with you and to be able to listen, together with you, to the Word of God with your entire parish community. This Sunday presents us with Abraham’s journey (cf. Gen 12:1-4) and the event of Jesus’ Transfiguration (cf. Mt 17:1-9).

Like Abraham, we can all recognise ourselves as being on a journey. Life is a journey that requires trust, it requires reliance on the Word of God who calls us and sometimes asks us to leave everything behind. We may then be tempted to flee from precariousness as though it were a vertigo that overwhelms us, whereas it is precisely from within it that we can appreciate a promise of unexpected greatness. Every day – because that is how the world reasons – we measure everything and strive to have everything under control. But in this way, we miss the opportunity to discover the real treasure, the precious pearl, as the Gospel teaches us, which God has unexpectedly hidden in our field (cf. Mt 13:44).

Abraham’s journey begins with a loss: the land and the home that hold the memories of his past. However, it will be completed in a new land and with an immense lineage, in which everything becomes a blessing. We too, if we allow ourselves to be called by faith on a journey, to risk new decisions of life and love, will cease to fear losing something, because we will feel that we are growing in a wealth that no-one can take away from us.

Jesus’ disciples also happened to face a journey, the one which would take them to Jerusalem (cfr. Lk 9:51). There, in the holy City, the Master fulfilled his mission, giving his life on the cross and becoming a blessing for all and forever. We know how much resistance Peter and all the others put up to following him. But they had to understand that one can only be a blessing by overcoming the instinct to defend oneself and by accepting what Jesus entrusts to the Eucharistic gesture: the willingness to offer his own body as bread to be eaten, to live and die in order to give life. This is what Sunday is, brothers and sisters: it is the pause along the journey in which we gather around Jesus. Jesus encourages us not to stop and not to change direction. There is no greater promise, no treasure more precious than living in order to give life!

Shortly before the day of the Transfiguration, Jesus had confided in his disciples what the destination of their journey would be, namely, his passion, death and resurrection. You will remember Peter's opposition and Jesus’ reaction when he said to him, “You are a hindrance to me; for you are not on the side of God, but of men” (Mt 16:23). And now, six days later, Jesus asks Peter, James and John to accompany him up the mountain. Those difficult words still ring in their ears; the unacceptable image of the Messiah condemned to death is still in their minds.

It is this inner darkness of the disciples that Jesus breaks when, on the mountaintop, he shows himself to them transfigured in a dazzling, unimaginable light. And in this glorious vision, Moses and Elijah also appear beside him, witnesses to the fact that in Jesus all the Scriptures are fulfilled (cf. Mt 17:2-3).

Once again, Peter becomes the spokesman of our old world and its desperate need to stop things, to control them. Rather like when we do not want a dream that we take refuge in to end. Here, however, it is not a dream, but a new world to enter: the destination of our journey, a place full of light and which has the human and divine contours of Jesus. By pitching the tents, Peter would like to stop this journey, which instead must continue to Jerusalem (cf. v. 4).

The voice that comes out of the clouds is that of the Father, and it seems to be an imploration: “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him” (v. 5). That voice resounds today for us: “Listen to Jesus!”. And I, dear friends, in your midst, want to echo that appeal, and to say to you: Please, sisters and brothers, listen to him! He journeys with us, even today, to teach us in this city the logic of unconditional love, of the abandonment of any defence that becomes an offence. Let us listen to him, let us enter into his light so as to become the light of the world, starting with the neighbourhood where we live. The whole life of the parish and its groups exists for this reason: it is a service to light, a service to joy.

After the Transfiguration on the mount, Jesus’ journey does not stop (cf. v. 9). And the Church, too, your parish, receives a mission from this Gospel. In the face of the numerous and complex problems of this territory, which loom over your days here, you are entrusted with the pedagogy of the gaze of faith, which transfigures everything with hope, putting passion, sharing and creativity into circulation as a cure for the many wounds of this neighbourhood.

I am very glad to learn that this parish community is a lively and vibrant community and, despite the grave problems of the local context, bears witness to the Gospel courageously. Under the programmatic motto “Let’s Build Community” this parish has embarked on a journey to strengthen the sense of belonging and welcome, with open arms, this parish has embarked on a journey to strengthen the sense of belonging and to welcome everyone, truly everyone with open arms! I am happy and I encourage you: continue on this path of openness to the local area and care for its wounds. And I hope that others will join you in being a leaven of goodness and justice here in Quarticciolo.

The commitment of you young people also deserves to be encouraged. In the “Magis” programme, which you presented to me a few minutes ago and which has been offered here for several years, reference is made to the “more” of which Saint Ignatius of Loyola speaks in his Spiritual Exercises. It is a stimulus for teenagers to overcome mediocrity by choosing a courageous, authentic and good life, which finds its “Magis” par excellence in Jesus Christ.

Dear brothers and sisters, you are a sign of hope. The light of the Transfiguration is already present in this community, because the Lord works here and because many of you believe in his gentle power that transforms everything. When we realise that many things around us are not right, we sometimes wonder: will what we are doing mean anything? We can succumb to the temptation of discouragement, losing our motivation and enthusiasm. Instead, it is precisely in the face of the mystery of evil that we must bear witness to our identity as Christians, as people who want to make the Kingdom of God perceptible in the places and times in which they live. This is my wish for all of you, for this parish community and for the many brothers and sisters who have not yet recognised in Jesus the true light and true joy.

Faced with everything that disfigures man and life, we continue to proclaim and bear witness to the Gospel, which transfigures and gives life. May the Holy Virgin, Mother of the Church, accompany us always and intercede for us.

01.03.26 m

Dear brothers and sisters, happy Sunday!

Today’s Gospel paints a radiant picture for all of us as it recounts the Transfiguration of the Lord (cf. Mt 17:1-9).  In this depiction, the Evangelist draws on the Apostles’ memories, portraying Christ between Moses and Elijah.  The Word made flesh stands between the Law and the Prophets: he is living Wisdom, who brings every divine word to fulfilment.  Everything that God has commanded to and inspired in human beings finds its full and definitive expression in Jesus.

Just as on the day of his baptism in the Jordan, so too today on the mountain we hear the voice of the Father proclaiming, “This is my beloved Son,” while the Holy Spirit envelops Jesus in a “bright cloud” (Mt 17:5).  The Gospel uses this unique expression to describe how God reveals himself.  When he manifests himself, the Lord makes his abundance visible to our gaze: standing before Jesus, whose face shines “like the sun” and whose clothes become “as white as light” (cf. v. 2), the disciples behold the human splendour of God.  Peter, James and John contemplate a humble glory, which is not displayed as a spectacle for the crowds to see, but in solemn intimacy.

The Transfiguration foreshadows the light of Easter: an event of death and resurrection, of darkness and new light that Christ radiates on all bodies scourged by violence, crucified by pain, or abandoned in misery.  Indeed, while evil reduces our flesh to a commodity or an anonymous mass, this same flesh shines with the glory of God.  The Redeemer thus transfigures the wounds of history, enlightening our minds and hearts: his revelation is a gift of salvation!  Does this captivate us?  Do we see the true face of God with a gaze of wonder and love?

The Father’s reply to the despair of atheism is the gift of his Son, the Saviour; the Holy Spirit redeems us from the loneliness of agnosticism by offering us an everlasting communion of life and grace; and in response to our weak faith, the promise of the future resurrection is announced.  This is what the disciples saw in Christ’s splendour, but it took time for them to understand (cf. Mt 17:9), time in silence to listen to the word, time for conversion in order to enjoy the Lord’s company.

As we experience this during Lent, let us ask Mary, teacher of prayer and Morning Star, to guide us in faith.

Dear brothers and sisters!

I am following with deep concern what is happening in the Middle East and in Iran during this tumultuous time. Stability and peace are not achieved through mutual threats, nor through the use of weapons, which sow destruction, suffering, and death, but only through reasonable, sincere, and responsible dialogue.

Faced with the possibility of a tragedy of immense proportions, I make a heartfelt appeal to all the parties involved to assume the moral responsibility of halting the spiral of violence before it becomes an unbridgeable chasm. May diplomacy regain its proper role, and may the well-being of peoples, who yearn for peaceful existence founded on justice, be upheld. And let us continue to pray for peace.

In these days, troubling news has also arrived of clashes between Pakistan and Afghanistan. I urgently appeal for a return to dialogue. Let us pray together that harmony may prevail in all conflicts throughout the world. Only peace, a gift of God, can heal the wounds between peoples.

I wish to express my closeness to those who have been severely affected by flooding in the Brazilian state of Minas Gerais. I pray for the victims, for the families who have lost their homes, and for all those involved in rescue efforts.

I extend a warm greeting to all of you, Romans and pilgrims from various countries, in particular the group of Cameroonians living in Rome, accompanied by the President of their Episcopal Conference, whom, God willing, I will have the joy of visiting in the month of April.

I welcome the faithful from the Diocese of Iași in Romania, from Budimir in Košice, Slovakia, from Massachusetts in the United States of America, and from the Confraternity of the Santísimo Cristo de la Buena Muerte from Jaén, Spain.

I greet the faithful from Naples, Torre del Greco, and Afragola; from Caraglio and Valle Grana; from Comitini, Crotone, Silvi Marina, and the parish of Saint Luigi Gonzaga in Rome; as well as the scout leaders of the “Val d’Illasi” group near Verona, and the young people from Faenza who have received the Sacrament of Confirmation.

I wish everyone a happy Sunday.

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