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Dear brothers and sisters, good morning!

Today I would like to talk to you about the Apostolic Journey I made to France in recent days. It was a great gift for me and for the people of God in that country, and I give thanks to the Lord for it. I wish to express once again my gratitude to all those who welcomed me, the civil authorities and the Pastors of the Church, and to the many people who wished to meet the Pope or even just to greet him in the streets, as an apostle of Christ and a messenger of peace. Thank you to everyone!

I would like to gather my thoughts and impressions – still very vivid – of this pastoral Visit centred on a single great symbol: the Cathedral of Notre-Dame of Paris. There, in the afternoon of the first day, we celebrated Vespers of the Blessed Virgin Mary, a solemn yet at the same time joyful liturgy, in which music, song and the beauty of the temple stirred the hearts of those united in prayer.

It is precisely Notre-Dame, with the tragedy it has endured, that can symbolically shed light on this entire Apostolic Journey, offering a perspective that I would summarise in one word: rebirth.

The Cathedral of Paris, which just seven years ago seemed mortally wounded by a devastating fire, has now been rebuilt and is more splendid than ever. That disaster sparked a positive reaction at every level, some more visible and practical, others more hidden and of a spiritual nature.

Its restoration was a test of the possible collaboration between the Church, the State, public institutions and civil society. This approach made it possible to make the most of both the generosity of benefactors and the expertise of professionals and skilled workers. The synergy for the common good should be the norm for institutions, political and social forces, and all those with civil and economic responsibilities. This is the message I wished to convey to the French authorities, as well as to the members of UNESCO, the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organisation, which has its headquarters in Paris, highlighting the fundamental criterion upon which such collaboration must be based: the dignity of the human person.

But above all, Notre-Dame is the image of the Church made up of living stones, of the holy people of God.

It is interesting to draw a parallel between the celebration of Vespers in the Cathedral with the vigil of young people which took place the same evening in the huge Stade de France in Paris. Two completely different locations, yet two complementary events, almost united spiritually. What united them? The Church, which is not made up of stones or cement, but of people who love Jesus Christ because they have been loved by Him. At Notre-Dame there were priests and deacons, consecrated persons, and pastoral workers; at the stadium there was the new French generation. New, I would say, not only in terms of age, but even more so in spirit, in the freedom of heart and faith. Young people who sang and shouted, but who also remained silent, listening. Attentive and emotional faces, which revealed hearts yearning for truth and love. To them I said with joy: “You are the saints of France!”. The Vigil was a great sign of hope.

The same was true – in the smallness that God favours – of the meeting at the Maison Bakhita, a shelter for various people in need: one of the many places, fruits of the Gospel, where people commit themselves every day to serving the dignity of the human person with love.

There is, however, a sign of renewal within the Church in France that has been evident for some years now, namely the remarkable and growing number of young people and adults seeking Baptism. In response to this beautiful “surprise” from God, a provincial synodal assembly is currently underway in Paris, at which I was able to speak, encouraging the journey of the catechumens and neophytes, together with the communities to which they belong.

The climax of my visit to the Capital was the Mass in Place de la Concorde. There, the sign of rebirth appeared in a surprising way: the liturgical assembly, which in the vast Square brought together the priests, the choir and a remarkable crowd, extended all the way along the Avenue des Champs Élysées up to the Arc de Triomphe and beyond. At the moment of Communion, everyone was able to receive the Eucharist, which was distributed everywhere. This is the true reconstruction, the restoration of the Church that only God can bring about, through the intercession of the Virgin Mary.

And so it was natural and proper that, after Paris, I should make a pilgrimage to Lourdes to venerate the Mother of the Church, Mary, she who, in the hour of passion and death, keeps alight the lamp of faith and hope. In Lourdes, the Lord, through the maternal care of the Virgin Mary, conveys to everyone, pilgrims and especially those who are sick in body and spirit, a message of hope and rebirth. A message that I wished to openly reaffirm: every human life, in whatever condition, even in the most extreme frailty, retains its inviolable dignity and deserves to be cared for, accompanied and relieved of suffering with human compassion and with the aid of the means offered by science. For this reason, Lourdes represents for the entire world a sanctuary of the civilization of love. In this context I met some people who were victims of abuse, and I asked them to help me express to other victims too my own wish, and that of the whole Church, to listen to them and walk alongside them as they seek healing, acknowledging the pain inflicted upon their lives and working to prevent abuse.

The third and final stage of the Apostolic Journey was the city of Metz, in a region of France and Europe ravaged by the Second World War. It was there that Robert Schuman, one of the principal inspirers of the process of European unification, carried out his work. Contemporary Europe was indeed born as a project for peace in the wake of the destruction wrought by war. We might say that what happened to Notre-Dame in Paris with the fire was what had happened to Europe during the Second World War. And Europe was reborn, founded on those principles of democracy, solidarity and fraternity amongst peoples, which owe much to its Christian roots. Even today, it is on these foundations and with this vital “lifeblood” that the European project can be renewed, in a far more globalized world, where interreligious dialogue plays a role of primary importance. For this reason, at Metz, I met with the representatives of various religious traditions, who read and signed in my presence the “Metz Appeal” for dialogue and peace.

Dear friends, the theme of my pastoral Visit to France was “Pour que le mode ait la vie”, “That the world may have life” (cf. Jn 6:51). They are Jesus’ words, which encapsulate His entire mission of salvation and which, during the Journey, fully expressed the Gospel meaning of every encounter. May they now inspire our prayer, as we ask God that this event of grace may bear abundant and lasting fruit.

I am following with deep concern the situation in Tigray and in the neighbouring regions of Afar and Amhara, where hostilities have once again broken out. I extend my heartfelt plea to all parties to choose the path of dialogue. Armed conflict never solves problems but only worsens them, leaving in its wake a trail of death, destruction, and resentment. Only honest engagement can lay the foundations for lasting peace. It is my fervent hope that the international community will offer its generous and timely contribution, to ensuring that all humanitarian aid be provided to those in need.

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, Denmark, Ghana, Australia, India, Indonesia, the Philippines, Malaysia, Sri Lanka and the United States of America. A special greeting to the seminarians from the Pontifical Irish College and the pilgrims attending the diaconate ordination of the Pontifical North American College that will take place tomorrow. Upon all of you and your families, I invoke the peace and unity of our Lord Jesus Christ. God bless you all!

30.09.26

Dear brothers and sisters,

I am very pleased to preside over this Eucharistic celebration, in which we entrust the diocesan community of Metz and the whole of Europe to the Lord.  In this historic Moselle region, which has always been a crossroads for different peoples and has suffered as a result of its location on Europe’s frontier, God’s promise resounds today with extraordinary power.

In the first reading (cf. Is 32:15-18), the prophet Isaiah speaks of the coming of the Kingdom of God in terms of righteousness, justice and peace.  He draws on three images: the desert, the garden and the house.

In the desert — a place of sobriety and silence — justice is established; that is, the law that helps people to walk in the path of goodness.  This austere image reminds us of the importance of simplicity and what is essential, allowing us to assign the proper value to things, while at the same time teaching us renunciation and sacrifice.

The second image is that of a garden where justice reigns.  While the desert represents what is essential, the garden represents beauty.  There is water, seeds sprout, shoots emerge, and flowers bloom, each with their own particular beauty.  This is the effect of a righteous life, which enables a person to flourish fully by freely adhering to the Lord’s plans.

The third image is that of the house, a place of peace.  Note that while the desert and the garden are settings where God’s action prevails, causing things to sprout and grow, building a house, on the other hand, requires a more direct and significant contribution from human beings.  It involves applying strength and skill through shared effort — a true “construction project.”  Similarly, peace, a gift from God, requires a response from human beings through combined effort.  After all, a home is more than just a stone structure; it is a place of human presence and love.  In this sense, the prophet’s words remind us that, in a world marked by limitations, harmony can only be built through charity, a charity that knows how to share joys and sorrows, that knows how to encourage and forgive, without calculation or limit, just as in a family.

The Gospel we have just heard also addresses this (cf. Mt 5:38–48).  In a world marked by so much violence, manipulation and arrogance at various levels, Jesus teaches us how to transform deserts into oases, to plant gardens, and to build homes.  He shows us the path that leads through forgiveness, mercy and magnanimity: “If anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also; and if anyone wants to sue you and take your coat, give him your cloak as well; and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile” (Mt 5:39–41).

To some, these words might seem like a sign of weakness, or a concession to evil, but that is not the case.  Let us look carefully at ourselves and our surroundings: What do attitudes such as vengeance, retaliation, and rejection bring about, both in the world and within ourselves?  What kind of future for humanity do relationships and systems imbued with the ruthless mentality stemming from these attitudes hold in store?  Those of you, who are the children of this land torn apart in the past by fratricidal conflicts, know full well that it is not true that those who seek revenge are stronger than those who forgive.  It is not true that those who refuse to yield are stronger than those who seek reconciliation.  It is not true that those who walk away are stronger than those who face the challenge of walking together.

Metz and Moselle bear witness to the whole world that reconciliation is only possible when one has the courage to break the chains of resentment.  It takes strength and great integrity not to be overwhelmed by evil, especially when the wounds inflicted are deep.  However, in the face of injustice, humanity’s only path to salvation is a love that cares for others and seeks to give trust regardless of the circumstances, even when confronted with the most difficult behaviour to accept (cf. Mt 5:42).  Thus, law, justice and peace are stages on a path of conversion that begins as a personal journey and becomes increasingly communal, leading to a civilisation that respects human beings and their Creator.

It is no coincidence that Saint Augustine defined the peace of the heavenly city as a harmonious communion in which people find joy in God and in one another through him (cf. De Civitate Dei, XIX, 13,1).  He also described peace among people as the fruit of a tranquillitas ordinis, whereby each person recognises and respects the unique and sacred dignity and role of others.

Here in Metz, it is worth recalling that these are precisely the values upon which the Europe we know has been built over the centuries, with its spiritual and moral heritage preceding its economic and political heritage.  As Saint John Paul II recalled with emotion, it has its roots in the lives and deeds of men and women who lived, preached, and shared the teachings of the Gospel (cf. Address at the Pro-EU Event, Santiago de Compostela, 9 November 1982).  This can be seen in the great spiritual, cultural and even agricultural and artisanal contributions that monasticism has made to the continent’s history, as well as by the work of saints such as the great Chrodegang, the tireless shepherd of this community.  Indeed, in this very place, he gave visible form to ecclesial communion in the Rule of the Canons.

The moral principles that govern the world in which we live were handed down to us from there: principles such as the primacy of the person and the sacred and inviolable nature of human life at all stages and under all circumstances; the protection of individual freedom; the primary importance of the family as the foundation of society; caring for the poor and the most disadvantaged; welcoming the stranger; and respecting the elderly.

Your local Church, which preserves the unique legacy of a fruitful dialogue between civil society and faith by virtue of its special status, has the responsibility to be a living laboratory of this fidelity.  Remaining faithful to these principles has never been easy, even for those who came before us.  Nevertheless, through faithfulness and perseverance, our ancestors bequeathed them to us as treasures to be passed on in turn to future generations, and enriched by our experience, the value of our efforts and our stories.

The magnificent cathedral of this city where we gather today illustrates all of this very well.  It is known as the “Lanterne du Bon Dieu” thanks to its 6,500 square meters of stained-glass windows depicting biblical scenes.  It seems that the builders sought to minimize the walls — which remain solid — so that light might flood in abundantly to the faithful.  Anyone who enters is thus immersed in a rich “biblia pauperum,” a source of prayer and meditation, through the reflections of a thousand colors.  In this place of light, the splendor of the historic stained-glass windows has recently been enhanced by the genius of Marc Chagall.  The works of this great Jewish painter, set into the cathedral’s walls, transform the “Lanterne du Bon Dieu” into an extraordinary symbol of ecumenism and interreligious dialogue.  This cathedral teaches us that God’s light does not erase our unique identities but rather unites different histories and cultures into a single marvelous mosaic of peace — so necessary in our time, torn as it is by new divisions and conflicts.  As we contemplate these stained-glass windows, we learn that Europe’s future does not lie in uniformity, but in the harmony of differences, where the wounds of the past become openings through which light shines.

Herein lies a symbol of our identity as the Church.  We, too, make use of structures that only have meaning insofar as they help us to bring the light of the Gospel to the world.  Without these stained-glass windows, the windows of Saint Stephen’s Cathedral would be mere spaces flooded with blinding light.  With these stained-glass windows, however, they become “books” that bring us together to remember wonderful stories full of heroism, goodness, mercy, love and moral beauty, to which we, in turn, must be generous and courageous witnesses.

With gratitude and trust as my trip to France draws to a close, this is the wish I share with you for the community in Metz, which today more than ever is called to be a beacon of hope for this country, for Europe and for the world, and I entrust this to the intercession of the Virgin Mary and your patron saints.

Dear brothers and sisters,

This Holy Mass is the final public gathering of my visit to France, and so I celebrate it with a deep sense of gratitude to the Lord.  I would also like to express my appreciation to all those whose efforts have made my visit possible.

I thank the President of the Republic and the various civil Authorities who ensured the welcome and hospitality extended to me in Paris, Lourdes and here in Metz.  I renew with affection my thanks to the President of the Bishops’ Conference and to the Bishops who were most closely involved, as well as to the priests, deacons, consecrated men and women, lay faithful and all the volunteers who have helped to make this visit possible.  Thank you all.

Dear friends, let us continue to walk together, united as one in Holy Mother Church, for the glory of God and in the service of his Kingdom of love, justice and peace.  Thank you very much.

28.09.26

Brothers and sisters, pilgrims from France and from throughout the world, in seeing you gathered here this morning in our Mother’s home, I see the universal face of the Church.  Some of you have crossed continents, travelled far, and brought your joys and burdens to this sacred grotto.  What a joy it is to be together, as one heart and one family.

I would especially like to greet the pilgrims who have come from every province and diocese of France.  Today you stand on this blessed ground that has received so many graces.  May this pilgrimage rekindle the flame of faith in your homes and parishes.  Take the consolation of Lourdes back to your neighbours, your loved ones and the whole French people.

This Sunday’s readings touch on a central part of the message that the Virgin Mary entrusted to Saint Bernadette: the call to conversion, both tender and urgent.  In the Gospel, Jesus looks with truth and deep sorrow upon hearts that have remained closed, “you did not repent” (Mt 21:32).  Why does this wound the heart of Christ?  Because God does not want his children to be lost.  The prophet Ezekiel reminds us, “When a righteous man turns away from his righteousness and commits iniquity, he shall die for it.”  However, since “he considered and turned away from all the transgressions which he had committed, he shall surely live, he shall not die” (Ez 18:26, 28).  This is why the call to repentance runs through Sacred Scripture and the preaching of the Gospel down the centuries.  Its gravity reminds us of the urgency and necessity of conversion.  It is today, not tomorrow, that we must repent.  Indeed, now is the acceptable time, now is the day of salvation (cf. 2 Cor 6:2).  God wants us to live, to open our eyes and return to him.  To repent is to leave the paths on which we lost our way, and to follow the way of life, opening our hearts to the sole joy that never passes away.

Jesus himself is quite direct in calling us to repentance.  As Saint Luke tells us, “Unless you repent, you will all perish” (Lk 13:5).  But he also extends our horizon beyond this earthly life to the horizon of eternal life.  For while happiness in this world is fleeting and relative, and sadly sometimes out of reach for some, true happiness is promised to everyone in hope, and this is what we should seek above all else, in all our efforts and choices.  Did not the Virgin Mary say to Saint Bernadette, “I do not promise to make you happy in this world but in the next”?

This promise, made right here, has a particular force in this land of France, and it challenges the way we think today.  In an age and society that seek progress and material wellbeing, but can sometimes forget the horizon of eternity, Mary comes to remind us of the greatness and richness of our calling to life, to eternal life.  In the face of current trends that seek to redefine the value of human life in illness, suffering and old age, the grotto of Massabielle stands as a place of Christian hope.  Here, no one is turned away due to their frailty.  Your crutches, your wheelchairs and your hidden tears are not obstacles; instead, they are the very place where you are fully respected and welcomed, and where you can experience a transforming encounter with the infinite love of God.  Lourdes is blessed as a place for professing the beauty and sanctity of life, for life is welcomed here as a precious gift from God, and is called to flourish for ever in the love of the Father.

“I promise you!”  Indeed, eternal life is a firm and certain promise that the Lord makes to us.  He has already won it for us by his death on the cross and his resurrection, and through the grace of baptism he is bringing it to fulfilment in us each day.  It is within our reach, but we must freely welcome it, take hold of it and not stand in its way.  For the obstacle to grace and eternal life — the only obstacle to this love — is sin, whereby we turn in upon ourselves, refusing God and shutting ourselves up in our own darkness.  Our personal responsibility therefore comes into play, and a great responsibility it is.  God has made us free, since freedom is necessary for love; no one can be forced to love.  We must therefore use our freedom to say yes to Christ, relying on his grace, like Mary.  This is a yes that we renew until our final breath — “now and at the hour of our death” — as we say in the Hail Mary.

We hear the same urgent call to conversion in the words which Mary spoke right here, “Penance! Penance! Penance!”  She repeats the word three times.  And she asks Bernadette to perform certain acts of penance.  Why?  Are we slow to understand?  Do we too easily think of ourselves without sin?  Do we not practice penance enough?  The Virgin asks us to do penance not only for ourselves, because we too need it, but also “for sinners,” for a world that is going astray.  How can our hearts not be moved by the conflicts that are spreading and destroying so many innocent lives?  Yet the evil of our time comes from the human heart.  God is not responsible for it. As he says to the Israelites, “Is my way not just? Is it not your ways that are not just?” (Ez 18:25).  It is therefore human hearts that must change, beginning with our own.

Penance is an act of love, carried out in solidarity with the human family. It is an act of love for God, because we want to make amends for the wounds our sins have dealt to his heart.  It is also an act of love for those brothers and sisters of ours who do not heed this call to conversion, and whose sins lead them towards death.  This call to conversion also concerns the Church herself as she makes her earthly journey.  She must have the courage to begin with herself.  In order to heal the deep wounds, infidelities and painful errors that have occurred within her, we must humbly place ourselves under the Lord’s purifying gaze.  Recognizing our own faults is essential to our spiritual growth.  As Saint Augustine wrote, “Do not be content with what you are, if you want to become what you are not yet” (Disc. 169, 15, 18).

Our Mother’s reminder of our duty to pray and repent fills us with great hope, because she shows us that the way to change the course of things is by uniting ourselves to the passion of Christ.  Dear friends who are sick, so many of you here in Lourdes are familiar with suffering.  You can live your trials and pains in this spirit of offering, and so take part in the redemptive work that the world so greatly needs.  In this way, you are truly at the heart of the Church, and your role is irreplaceable.

Pilgrims, brothers and sisters, you will not leave Lourdes as you arrived.  You will leave as missionaries of hope.  Indeed, the miracle of Lourdes is that it can awaken the joy of hope in the very midst of suffering and hardship.  The Virgin Mary heals our outlook and changes our hearts, giving them peace.  In your countries, dioceses and families, become living witnesses to this divine strength and tenderness, which help us to persevere towards our goal.  Sustained by the prayers of the sick and the love of our Mother, walk with confidence into the future.  Do not be afraid of the storms of the world, for the holy Mother of God watches over your journey, she shelters the Church beneath her mantle of tenderness and, as the radiant Morning Star, guides your steps, so that with joy she may bring you to new birth in the very life of her Son Jesus.  Amen.

27.09.26 m

Dear brothers and sisters,

I give thanks to God for the grace of being here with you today, in the Place de la Concorde, to celebrate the Eucharist. It is truly good and pleasant when brothers and sisters dwell together in unity (cf. Ps 133:1) to proclaim God’s greatness. Indeed, I hope that my visit will strengthen you in faith and encourage you to shine forth ever more brightly, by sharing the life, peace and love of our Lord Jesus Christ.

“If anyone thirst, let him come to me and drink” (Jn 7:37).  Brothers and sisters, in our thirst, we turn toward Christ, the source of living water: water that quenches our thirst and makes life flourish, the water of God’s love “poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us” (Rom 5:5).

The desire for God dwells deep within our hearts, and we cry out with the psalmist: “My soul thirsts for God, for the living God” (Ps 42:2).  This is the cry of a humble and passionate heart whose deepest, most existential thirst continues to grow. And it is Jesus Christ, through his Incarnation, who comes to meet every person in the midst of his or her own story, and reveals himself as the true source of living water capable of quenching our thirst. This thirst that dwells in every human heart is not so much a thirst for material things, but a thirst for meaning, for truth and fulfilment. Jesus responds to our profound desire for relationship, for communion with God, in whom the fullness of life forever resides.

In the first reading, the prophet Ezekiel saw water flowing out from the Temple and spreading through the desert, purifying and bringing life to everything it touched (cf. Ezek 47:1-2, 8-9, 12). Later, Saint John would see water flowing from the pierced side of Jesus as he gave up his spirit (cf. Jn 19:30-34). Everyone can now drink from this fountain, so as to receive the gift of the Spirit and be born anew, becoming children of God, a new creation.

Brothers and sisters, we must acknowledge that nothing in this world can ever fully satisfy us. When we think that our work is finished at last and our efforts have been rewarded, that inner emptiness often returns, deeper than before. And so, in an attempt to fill it, we may seek new pleasures, want to possess more and more things, or do everything we can to distract ourselves in order to numb that inner restlessness.

Today’s Liturgy of the Word invites us to look into our hearts and ask, what is my deepest thirst? What am I really seeking in life? We all long for happiness, love and fulfilment. But from what source do we seek to quench our thirst? Are we content with material goods, immediate satisfactions, the countless little idols that promise us everything but leave our hearts empty? We have been baptized and received the living water of which the Gospel speaks, but have we truly encountered Christ personally?  In essence, the human person is a being of desire, and only God can fill the emptiness within us.

Yes, brothers and sisters, Jesus Christ, the Good Shepherd, leads us, as a shepherd leads his sheep, to the source of happiness and peace. He knows each one of us by name. Nothing about us is hidden from him –— neither our secrets, nor our intentions nor our weaknesses. He searches the depths of our hearts. He gave his life for us and continues to give it to us through the sacraments. He carries the weary and wounded sheep on his shoulders, and gently brings back those who have gone astray. Jesus reveals God’s unconditional love for us. In his eyes, none of us is merely a number or an entry in a register, but a unique and irreplaceable person.

Seeing you gathered here, my brothers and sisters, heirs to France’s long and beautiful history of faith, I say to you: drink from the source that is the pierced heart of Jesus. Yes, you thirst for God, for life, for truth, for unity, for peace, for communion and for happiness. You long to rediscover a horizon filled with light and to build a renewed nation upon roots nourished by faith. Do not keep this faith in Jesus Christ to yourselves. Let it overflow, so that those you meet may be refreshed and their thirst satisfied. You are called to bring hope wherever discouragement and spiritual dryness prevail.

Indeed, it is by accepting to live truthfully under the gaze of Jesus that we can be authentic and look honestly at our lives. They are fragile, vulnerable and destined to pass through death; yet they are also wonderful and miraculous, capable of being renewed through our relationships and of opening themselves to true love.

“If any one thirst, let him come to me and drink.  He who believes in me, as the scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart shall flow rivers of living water’” (Jn 7:37-38). As we drink from the source that is the heart of Christ, we ourselves become, as Origen wrote, wells, springs and rivers for others (cf. Homily 12, 1, 2-3). Indeed, the believer who drinks from this source also becomes a source of life through their living relationship with Christ, and communicates that same life to others.

Dear brothers and sisters, the living water of the Holy Spirit has been poured out in abundance and continues to bear fruit in the Church through missionaries and witnesses in every culture and among every people. It brings life to all those whom it touches and transforms them, enabling them to bear fruit. This is the holiness of those who worship the true God and generously serve their brothers and sisters in charity. In this beautiful country of France, many have drunk from this living water throughout the centuries and devoted their lives entirely to the good of others: the first martyrs, such as Blandina, Pothinus and Irenaeus; the holy founders and foundresses of religious orders; holy bishops such as Martin and Francis de Sales; and men and women whose hearts were attentive to the needs of others, such as Vincent de Paul, Frédéric Ozanam and Jeanne Jugan, and many others.  Even today, there are so many people in your society, in parishes and in every sphere of life, who continue to devote themselves to the cause of life, the family, truth, peace, fraternity and justice.

From this beautiful city of Paris, I pray fervently that the living water of the Holy Spirit may flow throughout France. I think of you, dear families, who, despite the many difficulties you face each day, persevere courageously in your vocation and mission. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the good that is accomplished through you. May the tangible presence of Jesus within you never run dry. I think of you, dear young people: you are today’s Church. How beautiful it is to see your enthusiasm, energy and commitment, and the joy you bring to Christian communities. I think also of you, dear catechumens and newly baptized, who have begun the journey of faith, conversion and Christian initiation. May you bear witness to those around you to the journey you are making, and inspire them to ask themselves questions as well. May the gift of the Holy Spirit make you living witnesses, ready to spread around you a civilization of love.

Brothers and sisters, let us turn to the Mother of God, Fountian of Salvation, who guides us toward her Son, the author of every grace. Through her free and trusting “yes”, she became the humble vessel, chosen by God, in which the Father’s love took flesh and gave itself to the world.

Let us invoke her with confidence, that through her intercession springs of living water may well up within the People of God and cause seeds of faith, hope and charity to blossom throughout France. Amen.

26.09.26 m

Question from Chloé

Holy Father, we thank you for your presence among us this evening and for this opportunity for dialogue that you are giving us.

My name is Chloé. I am 25 years old, and I am finishing my studies in pharmacology. I am part of a group of young Catholics from working-class neighborhoods in the Île-de-France region called La Cité Céleste. Among other things, we organize events such as evenings of adoration and worship, which bring together many young people from the neighborhood who are eager to live out and share their faith with others. I am also active in my parish, working in particular with high school students. Through these various commitments, I am passionate about using my energy and skills to serve others, creating connections between faith, youth and the realities of daily life in our neighborhoods.

As Saint Paul says, “For me, to live is Christ.” However, the society in which we live is founded on different principles and sometimes even seems to have no regard for the question of God. We wish to proclaim Christ to those around us with strength and perseverance, but also with respect and sensitivity. How can we combine our strong missionary zeal with authentic fraternity toward those who do not share our faith?

The Holy Father’s Response

Dear friends, the first thing I would like to say is very simple: thank you. Thanks be to God, and to you — thank you for your courage, thank you for your presence, thank you for your faith. You are the saints of France!

Thank you, Chloe, for your question.  The phrase from Saint Paul that you quoted is not just a statement. It is truly the essence of his life. In these few but decisive words, he utters a prayer of praise, an act of faith, and he points to the path of holiness that led to martyrdom. “For me, to live is Christ” (cf. Phil 1:21). By repeating this declaration of love, we seek to share in the Apostle’s experience. He testifies that God was never absent from his life. God came to meet him, calling him to himself, thereby transforming him from within, and sending him out into the world.

We are all part of this spiritual journey, even today. It is true, as you say, that the society in which we live seems indifferent to God. But the Lord is not indifferent to us! This is what matters, and what always gives us hope. The fact that many are indifferent to the question of God is, indeed, a problem, but so too is the fact that many are indifferent to the question of humanity. Sadly, how many people show no concern for their neighbors, lead selfish lives, look down on the poor while squandering their wealth on trivial things. How many reject the weak and the infirm, thinking that a person’s worth lies solely in what they produce. Consider your commitment in the working-class neighborhoods of Île-de-France, in La Cité Céleste: it is there, in the concrete realities of daily life, and sometimes in the midst of difficulties, that your faith becomes a vibrant witness to hope.

Humanity goes astray when it claims that God is dead. Without God, we have no salvation and we lose the meaning of our existence, which is reduced to a dead end or to nothingness. Conversely, those who say, “For me, to live is Christ!” experience the exact opposite. Indeed, in Christ we know that God is never indifferent to humanity! Through Jesus, crucified and risen, God gives his own life so that we may live. The way to proclaim Christ courageously yet respectfully is to proclaim him as the Gospel of salvation, as the word of truth and life. The Gospel is good news for all, a liberating message, and a guide for new life.

The Gospel of Jesus does not lead to conflict, but always invites us to forgive. While shedding light on the drama of history, it fosters fraternal concern. Encountering Christ opens the way to dialogue and prepares us for his peace, for it offers every man and woman the greatest promise, the one that fulfills our every desire, namely the promise of eternal life.

Dear Chloé, dear young people, every person’s religious experience expresses this search for meaning that animates the human soul. In Jesus, the Redeemer of the world, God reveals himself by addressing “men and women as friends” (Dogmatic Constitution on Divine Revelation Dei Verbum, 2). He is the source of living water, light in the darkness. In the joy of faith, let us therefore proclaim together this evening: “for us, to live is Christ!” Together: for us to live is Christ!

Thanks to him, we can combine missionary zeal with the spirit of fraternity toward those who do not believe in God or who belong to other religious traditions. This fraternity is built on listening and mutual respect, and is rooted in the unity of the human family, which throughout history has expressed the religious dimension as a vital characteristic of every people.

Cultivating a fraternal bond with those who do not share our faith thus contributes to the building of society. Furthermore, it is a way practicing faith and charity, for it is impossible to bear witness to Christ without loving those to whom we wish to proclaim him. The meetings among young people from the Mediterranean region that have taken place in recent years are an encouraging sign of this fraternity.

The Christian message, then, is not an obstacle to fraternal coexistence; on the contrary, it promotes it by inviting everyone freely to listen to a message of peace and salvation. Similarly, our mission is not incompatible with respect for other religions, because the Church does not reject parts of them that are true and holy (cf. Declaration on the Relation of the Church with Non-Christian Religions Nostra Aetate, 2). Thank you.

Question from François

Holy Father, thank you for coming to strengthen us in our faith and in our desire to bear witness to the Gospel!

My name is François Bigot. I grew up in the countryside of Burgundy and I am currently studying agronomy at UniLaSalle. I love dedicating my time to the beauty of the liturgy. I also serve my Diocese of Nevers by organizing a mountain bike pilgrimage and preparing a new Burgundian pilgrimage. I am a scout leader and active in the chaplaincy ministry at my school.

We young people want to get involved in service to the most vulnerable, to peace in our country and throughout the world, to the Church of Christ! However, it is often difficult to know how to direct our lives so that we can give of ourselves selflessly and faithfully, without becoming dispersed or losing heart, since the task sometimes seems overwhelming. Anxiety and uncertainty often undermine the enthusiasm of our youth. Holy Father, how can we discern where the Lord is calling us to serve and offer our lives?

The Holy Father’s Response

Are there many scouts here? Oh, very good—welcome!

First of all, I would like to thank you for your commitment. It gives me great joy to see so many of you here, driven by a desire to serve the cause of peace — a peace that helps us grow as men and women by transforming fears into hope, and complaint into responsibility. Today, this great mission is more urgent than ever, for it calls us to navigate with discernment the current technological and digital changes, without diminishing our humanity. In particular, when we dedicate ourselves to protecting the youngest and the most vulnerable, we recognize our personal and shared frailty. This fragility, which is inherent in human life, does not frighten us, but unites us as creatures who discover each other as brothers and sisters in Christ. He is the first to give himself to us, and the living sign of this grace is the Eucharist, “the source and summit of the Christian life” (Dogmatic Constitution on the Church Lumen Gentium, 11). It is from this sacrament, which sustains our faith, that we, in turn, draw strength to give ourselves to our neighbor, imitating the selfless love of the Lord Jesus. The pursuit of justice and peace compels us to acknowledge the conflicts we experience within ourselves and to purify our hearts. By committing ourselves to the service of God and others, our wounds then find consolation and redemption.

Throughout the history of the world, there is no failure from which God cannot lift us up, for his mercy is our joy. And yet, you have spoken of anxiety and uncertainty as obstacles to your enthusiasm. These are widespread feelings that arise from the uncertainty of future plans, the transient nature of emotional bonds and the fragility of relationships. Added to these issues are others that weigh heavily on your generation, such as screen fatigue and anxiety about climate change and the international situation. Yes, we must pay close attention to these feelings. I invite all of you, dear young people, to keep your hearts open to the suffering of your peers.  At the same time, the experience of fragility, any kind of fragility, can become an opportunity for a disciple of Christ to bear witness. Those who follow Jesus on the path of humble and selfless service are freed from anxiety and find new enthusiasm as they experience inner joy and peace. These feelings are not fleeting or subjective, but are rooted in the certainty of the faith to which we bear witness together as the Church.

Yes, together we form the Church: fragile and holy, like clay jars containing a treasure (cf. 2 Cor 4:7). Saint Paul reminds us once again that it is precisely in weakness that we are strong (cf. 2 Cor 12:10). It is especially in difficult times that God sustains our freedom and encourages us through his grace. He chose to live as a human being so that we might live with him forever, as joyful witnesses to hope.

Dear friends, it is in this friendship with Jesus that our discernment takes place. It is a reflection that begins by invoking the gifts of the Holy Spirit. It is a constant effort that enables us to continue forward in an orderly and confident manner.

How can we discern well?

Firstly, remember that the word of the Lord is always a lamp for our steps (cf. Ps 119:105). In the light of the Gospel, spiritual formation involves prayer and service, adoration and action, silence — rare, but necessary, far from the clamor of the media — and proclamation.

Next, draw inspiration from the example of the saints. Even in the face of persecution, these brothers and sisters of ours opened paths of peace. Look to those priests who were passionate about Christ, such as Saint Eugene de Mazenod and Saint John Mary Vianney. Look to the mystical beauty of Saint Thérèse of the Child Jesus; the fervor in charity and mission of Blessed Pauline Jaricot; and the courage of the fifty martyrs of the apostolate who served their brothers and sisters even to the point of sacrificing their own lives during the Second World War. These saints changed the course of history by leading many people from hardship to hope, since they first changed their own hearts, transforming them in the light of faith.

Dear young people, as you discern your vocation, be assured that the Lord does not speak to us in a confusing way, but calls each of us by name, inviting us to follow him because he loves us. If you embrace his Gospel with an open mind and a pure heart, you will understand how Jesus invites you to serve. It is always a gift of life: full, faithful and overflowing with love. To overcome anxiety or uncertainty, have the courage to say a simple and wonderful word: thank you. Thank you, Jesus, for your love.

That is why now, not with fear but with confidence, and full of joy, we can all say together, following the example of the saints: “Here I am, Lord!” All together: here I am, Lord! 

Now I address those among you — and there are many here tonight — who feel called to follow Jesus on the demanding path of the priesthood or consecrated life. The Church in France needs you! She prays for you; she awaits you. Dear friends, do not be afraid of this call. Be bold. Trust in Jesus, who wants to make you his closest friends. He will not disappoint you and will always be by your side. Your life will be beautiful and fruitful.

In conclusion, let us take up this prayer that Saint John Paul II passed on to us: “Master, you who love and respect the human person, you who shared in humanity’s suffering, you who shed light on the mystery of human existence, help us discover the true meaning of our lives and our vocation!” (Homily at Mass for the 12th World Youth Day, Paris, 24 August 1997). Thank you!

Meditation by the Holy Father

In the night the light shines all the more brightly. Thus, dear young people, we have heard together the words of Saint Paul. We want to hold them high, like a torch that illumines not only our prayers, but the whole history of the Church. The Apostle views his own time and receives divine inspiration, that is, the Holy Spirit, who always opens up bright prospects for the future. Yes, God is the Lord of history, and no matter what happens, he guides its course toward salvation. In Christ, every evil comes to an end, precisely because that end becomes the beginning of a new and eternal life.

Dear friends, in order to shed light on our times and transform the present in the light of the Spirit, let us remember first of all that, like Timothy, we are men and women of God. The expression “of God” used by Saint Paul, signifies a relationship, not possession. Whoever lives with God is free from everything that darkens life, rendering it empty and meaningless. Young people of France, you carry in your hearts an immense desire for freedom, a word that resonates loudly in your culture. But what is the source of true freedom? Jesus clearly reveals it when he tells us that it is the truth that will set us free (cf. Jn 8:32); and that he is the truth (cf. Jn 14:6). Here, then, is the source of true freedom: a living relationship with Jesus.

The Lord’s presence brings wisdom to our plans and beauty to the desires we hold in our hearts. God shines through our souls like a light, inviting us to a constant renewal, calling us to a conversion that gives full meaning to our lives, making us protagonists of a story that moves from confusion to the pursuit of truth, and from indifference to a commitment to justice. Saint Paul expresses this through three verbs that appeal to our freedom: to shun, to strive and to fight.

The Apostle writes to Timothy: first of all, “shun all this,” that is, pride, vanity, violence and greed (cf. 1 Tim 6:4, 11). These are feelings that take hold of us and possess us. The selfishness that characterizes them hides a frightening loneliness. To savor God’s closeness and human fraternity, we must reject desires that consume our relationships without giving anything in return or filling us with things that cannot nourish us. Such a lifestyle drives us to have everything, but to become no one; to receive countless “likes,” but to remain alone with ourselves.

When we decide not to follow that lifestyle, we then begin to strive toward “righteousness, godliness, faith, love, steadfastness and gentleness” (v. 11). Indeed, those who live with God strive for what is best: they are constantly growing. They seek virtue, namely that inner strength which makes us good and true. Dear friends, the dynamism that drives Christian life has a specific name: the path of holiness. It is the path that the Lord opens before each of us, accompanying us every step of the way. And how many sons and daughters of this beloved land of France have allowed themselves to be led along this path! Consider, for example, Blessed Marcel Callo, a young Frenchman, a boy scout and worker, who in the darkness of the concentration camp never ceased to strive toward the good, maintaining his interior freedom.

As we advance along this path of holiness, it becomes clear that it is not enough merely to shun evil: we must choose the good. This is not an abstract principle, nor is it a self-evident statement. Choosing the good is the proper act of freedom, by which it is realized, refined and matured. To make the right choices, remember this principle: the good gives life; it never takes it away. The good cares for others; it does not take for itself. The good is not simply a nice idea, but the radiant face of love: it is God himself. The virtues that Saint Paul indicates to us as reflections of God’s goodness include justice toward humanity, piety and faith in God, charity toward all, patience toward those who cause our suffering, and gentleness that characterizes those who seek peace with a pure heart. The principles of equality and fraternity that inspire your society find their foundation here. More than legal prescriptions, they are the radical and courageous choices of a free heart. Making these principles our own is not merely a moral commitment; it is choosing to become authentic men and women, free from every compromise.

In this regard, the Apostle gives us a third verb: to fight. Indeed, shunning evil and striving for the good implies fighting. To fight, yes, as Saint Paul did, who is often depicted with a sword in his hand, symbolizing the word of God, “the sword of the Spirit” (Eph 6:17). This verb resonates powerfully here in France, the land of Saint Joan of Arc, a young woman who knew how to fight with courage. But remember that the battle we are called to fight is that of faith, through our commitment to live according to the Gospel, as disciples of Jesus, the Son of God who makes us brothers and sisters. It is in his name that we receive the strength of the righteous to resist temptation. It is in his name that we have the perseverance of the meek to devote ourselves to doing good. Our battle is not a battle against others. It does not employ the weapons of violence, contempt or oppression. Our only weapon is that of self-giving love. Sadly, we know that there are forces that oppose our relationship with God, and powers that seek to divide individuals and peoples by pitting them against one another. These evils do not always unmask themselves in open violence, but at times appear in more insidious forms, for they promise the very thing they take away from us, namely our happiness. When we feel surrounded by their darkness, the light of the Holy Spirit enlightens us and comforts us. And so, tonight, let us choose together the virtues we must cultivate in order to follow the Lord.

We are not alone on this path to holiness, for we walk it united with all our brothers and sisters around us. You are experiencing this yourselves tonight, as happens at great gatherings like World Youth Day. We also have the saints as our allies, supporting us in times of trial. Dear friends, when life’s choices require courage, seek the intercession of the saints and follow their example. As we have sung in the litanies, the encouragement of the saints assures us that we are never alone in prayer, and that we are never alone in the Church. In a particular way, let us now ask for their help to become peacemakers, which is the eternal desire of God for us, and humanity’s constant task. Tonight, I have mentioned some of the saints. Let us also ask Saint Thérèse of the Child Jesus to teach us her “little way” of daily love, the solid foundation of every lasting peace.

The Lord realizes this peace through the covenant that he establishes with all of us through the mediation of Jesus Christ. That is why, in pointing out the foundation of our experience of faith, Saint Paul speaks not only of what we can do in response to God, but also of what God does for us. The Apostle sums this up with an image of Jesus before Pilate, the truth of love confronting the hypocrisy of power. The “good fight” thus coincides with the “good confession” (cf. v. 12–13). This is demonstrated by the use of the same adjective kalos, which here means something well done. The work well done, the work that is good, is the redemption that Jesus accomplishes for us. Through his struggle against sin and death, Christ’s victory sets us free. He saves us from all evil and invites us to all that is good.

In this light, let us consider the two relics before us: the tunic and the cross. One was taken from Christ; the other was given to him. Both are signs of his passion. Jesus is stripped of his tunic so that he might clothe us in the white robe, washed “in the blood of the Lamb” (Rev 7:14). In this way, the cross, an instrument of death, becomes a sign of hope. Both the tunic and the cross, therefore, represent us as the Church, born of the life of God given to the world. Dear young people, in order to grow in holiness and improve our society, be radiant witnesses to this Gospel, to the good news that is Christ himself, our Savior: “To him be honor and eternal dominion. Amen” (1 Tim 6:16).

25.09.26 pv

Dear brothers and sisters,

We are gathered for Evening Prayer in this place which, more than any other, has invited the people of Paris for centuries to lift their eyes towards heaven. Seven years have passed since the whole world, holding its breath, watched as the cathedral was engulfed in a terrible fire. At that time, we also watched anxiously, conscious of how powerless humans are in the face of the unforeseen. That pain was felt not only by Catholics, nor only by believers. Indeed, in that tragic moment we came to realize that Notre-Dame is more than a monument. The collective effort to rebuild it, and the splendour of the result reveal that the heart of a people beats here, and that here we stand at the living center of a civilization, where past and future embrace, where heaven and earth meet.

It was my wish to meet you here, in this symbolic place of the Church in France. It is a joy for me to have crossed its threshold a short while ago, as thousands of brothers and sisters do each day, coming here from every corner of the world. Simply entering this place brings us face to face with a beauty that speaks to our restless hearts and calls them to peace. Following the restoration of this sacred space for all humanity, it is rightly recognized how each visitor can be renewed by what he or she sees, hears and experiences. The public, private and ecclesial institutions involved in the restoration of Notre-Dame have each contributed, in their own way, to reawakening the cultural, existential and spiritual journeys that the cathedral opens up before us. In this context, the Church has understood her mission not only in terms of preservation but also of creativity, by keeping tradition alive with the boldness of those who have faith and are guided by hope. I wish to thank the Archbishop, his co-workers and the diocesan community of Paris, who have also developed a pastoral pathway of initial proclamation and Christian initiation open to all. The baptismal font is a sign of this, situated at the entrance as a blessing and an invitation.

The rebuilding of the Cathedral was an opportunity for an encounter that has expanded horizons of welcome and participation beyond the boundaries of ecclesial affiliation. Dear bishops, priests, deacons, consecrated men and women, seminarians of France, let yourselves be inspired by what has happened here! Make the vision of Evangelii Gaudium your priority, namely the missionary conversion which Pope Francis spoke of in his first Apostolic Exhortation.

In the Letter to the Galatians, we heard the reason why we should not be afraid: “God sent forth his Son” (Gal 4:4). He sent him among us, into our world. In Saint Paul’s words, the verb describes a real, historical event, not some ideal set of circumstances. Christians do not flee from complexity, for God himself has called them to follow his Son in a world that is already inhabited, already in motion, already marked by both human misery and goodness. The way of the Cross certainly reveals the darkness that runs through our world, but even more profoundly, it reveals the love of God that triumphs over death.

The Cathedral’s cruciform layout, where stone and light come together, evokes the meeting of earth and heaven. It gathers and orders the events of history, woven with human joys and sufferings. It holds them together in a symbolic dynamic that transforms these diverse expressions into a living language, uniting them into a whole.

Dear friends, it is from the Incarnation — “God sent forth his Son” — that the identity of the Church flows, for she is called always to be a Church “going forth”. As disciples of Christ, you know well that the Christian community is not a refuge into which we withdraw in order to protect ourselves from our age. On the contrary, like the cathedrals of old, the Church is a place of welcome, respect, revelation and meaning for everyone. The strength of a living Church lies in welcoming those on the peripheries who already have a place in her heart; welcoming those who are far away but in reality are already near; welcoming the stranger, in whom Christ is already knocking at the door.

If Notre-Dame is a sign of this encounter at the heart of Paris, then the other cities and regions of France, even the most remote and rural, can be transformed all the more by a simple and welcoming missionary presence. Such a presence can help to bring cultural differences into harmony and to heal the wounds present in our societies. From the northern coasts to the Mediterranean, from the inland regions to the overseas departments, be a living, diverse and close Church. A lack of material resources does not prevent mission, for it is the grace of God that gives rise to interior freedom and simplicity of life, enabling us to reflect an evangelical way of life. In all this, confidently value the missionary presence of the lay faithful, who are the living front line of the Church at the crossroads of everyday life.

At the same time, brothers and sisters, we must not forget that this Cathedral, like every other church, was built for the purpose of prayer and the worship of God. It is the place where the Christian community celebrates the highest form of prayer and worship, renewing in the Eucharist the redemptive sacrifice of Christ. This Cathedral is not merely a stone structure to be admired; instead, it lives by the sacred mystery celebrated within it. Without the liturgy, it would lose its soul. Here at Notre-Dame, this truth is made evident by the placement of the altar at its center. The community gathered to praise the Lord thus stands at the heart of the building, while visitors, even during celebrations, walk around it and observe it. Here the Church appears for what she is, namely a living organism, a believing community that gathers into its praise everything that culture and tradition have handed down to her. She is a body which, through her celebration, tells each person the reason for her existence.

Today, more than ever, we live in an age that seems deprived of fullness, depth and promise. The noble simplicity of song, spoken word and liturgical gesture can be for many a glimmer of hope, an oasis of peace in a hyper-connected and noisy society, where we can experience the presence of the Author of the greatest love: “When the time had fully come, God sent forth his Son” (Gal 4:4). The celebration of the liturgical year, of Sundays and feasts, also makes us companions of Christ, attentive to the different moments of his life, which he gave entirely to the Father for the sake of the world. In this way, we become more sensitive and more open to the signs of the times. Indeed, our prayer and listening together to the Scriptures enable us to see the events of history in the light of God, making us more aware of our responsibilities, allowing us to unmask unjust relations of power and sow the seeds of justice and peace. It is hope that drives us therefore, not resignation. And from this arise bonds of greater fraternity and networks of solidarity, the fruit of communion in the one Sacrifice of Christ.

To you who celebrate the Eucharist each day, I ask you to ensure that the liturgical celebrations are always carried out with dignity and reverence, even where smaller communities gather. Be conscious heirs of the Church Fathers and saints who, over the centuries, have handed down to us the profound meaning and beauty of the liturgy, always giving an example of great humility before the Mystery that is celebrated. The Second Vatican Council, whose richness owes much to France, gathered up and deepened this heritage in an eminent way, recognizing the liturgy’s central role in the life of the Church (cf. Sacrosanctum Concilium, 10). I therefore exhort all of you, bishops, priests, deacons and consecrated persons, to cultivate an authentic love for the liturgy and to be witnesses and servants of the prophetic, priestly and kingly vocation of the entire People of God.

In this respect, the liturgy remains a reflection of life. Eucharistic joy takes root and spreads wherever harmony is restored, wherever dignity is renewed, wherever authority becomes service, and wherever freedom is able to flourish again. This is the greatest gift we can share. Therefore, place communion with the successor of Peter and with the Church before your personal preferences, so as to foster the unity of God’s people. Thus, together, we will bear prophetic witness to the possibility of a reconciled world.

Dear bishops, priests, seminarians and consecrated persons, you who have been called to follow Christ, I thank you for your response and your fidelity to the Lord. Never neglect this friendship desired by the Lord, which must be cultivated in personal prayer, and is the foundation of every vocation. As Madeleine Delbrêl said: “Without prayer, we would not love the God of love. We might perhaps be his servants, his warriors, or even his disciples; but we would be neither the loving children of our Father nor the friends… of Jesus Christ” (Notre vie, Œuvres complètes vol. XV, Nouvelle Cité, 2017, p. 41). Nurture, then, your interior life with the Lord, following the example of the many saints who have gone before you, always drawing from the source of God’s infinite love in silent prayer. Your mission flows above all from this intimate relationship with the Lord, who awaits you there.

At the heart of the city, the open Cathedral is a sign of a community that praises the Lord and lives hospitality not as an occasional gesture, but as the very form of its existence, so that all may feel at home, no longer dominated or marginalized in a changing world. “God sent forth his Son, born of a woman, […] so that we might receive adoption as sons” (Gal 4:4-5). And “if a son, then you are also an heir” (ibid 4:7). Heirs by grace, brothers and sisters gathered here, it is now up to each of you, this praying and living assembly, to become the flesh and voice of this promise. Clergy and consecrated persons of France, you are called to be the first guardians of this open house, the living stones of a Church that hopes and does not fear the future. This Cathedral has been reborn so that you too may be reborn with it in a new impetus towards holiness and daily mission. In the midst of your people, be a clear expression of the divine motherhood of the Church, who, by bearing witness to God’s love, restores and heals the human family.

Let us lift our eyes towards the fourteenth-century statue of the Virgin and Child, which was untouched by the fire and now shines once again before us. May Mary, who carried the Word in her womb, keep you faithful, and may she be the star that guides the mission of the Church in France. Holy Mary, Our Lady of Paris and Mother of the Church, pray for the French people, sustain their pastors, and walk always at our side.

25.09.26 v

Brothers and sisters, good morning and welcome!

As we continue our journey through the Pastoral Constitution Gaudium et Spes of the Second Vatican Ecumenical Council, we come to the third chapter of the first part, which bears the intriguing title: “Man’s Activity Throughout the World”. The fundamental question is this: what is the value of human activity in the world, and therefore of technical, social and scientific progress? We may recall that, less than four years after the close of the Council, on the night of 20–21 July 1969, man set foot on the Moon for the first time.

Created in the image and likeness of God, the human being is the agent of progress. With freedom and intelligence, he increases his knowledge, thereby advancing society as a whole. We can easily see this by considering the improvements in living conditions over successive generations. Indeed, the Document states, “many benefits once looked for, especially from heavenly powers, man has now enterprisingly procured for himself” (no. 33).

For this reason, some thinkers have portrayed scientific and technical progress as something that weakens man’s relationship with God, to the point of making it seem superfluous, or even as antagonistic to the Christian faith. And this interpretation has brought about a change in the way contemporary man views the world, compared with previous ages. Such a prejudice is particularly prevalent in that part of Western culture which has lost its reference to Christian Revelation. In post-Christian humanisms, the human being and God are mistakenly presented as rivals: in order to assert his knowledge, his freedom and his progress, man would have to emancipate himself from God. Ultimately, however, by denying the relationship with God, one also loses the possibility of affirming the transcendent value of the human person. This is the “tragedy of atheistic humanism”, well described by a leading theologian of the Second Vatican Council, Henri de Lubac. [1]

The Council wishes to provide a clear answer: Christians, states Gaudium et Spes, “can justly consider that by their labour they are unfolding the Creator’s work, consulting the advantages of their brother men, and are contributing by their personal industry to the realization in history of the divine plan” (no. 34). Indeed, the Constitution continues, “far from thinking that works produced by man’s own talent and energy are in opposition to God’s power, and that the rational creature exists as a kind of rival to the Creator, Christians are convinced that the triumphs of the human race are a sign of God’s grace and the flowering of His own mysterious design” ( ibid.). In essence, God has placed in the hands of men and women a creation that is still in statu viae – that is, on a journey, in the process of growth – so that they may bring it to fulfilment through their wise activity. [2]

Here there is an important reference to the mystery of the Incarnation. Humanity – and with it work, progress and the autonomy of created realities – is not absorbed or nullified by the encounter with God, but rather taken up in its entirety, continuing to be, in Christ, free and active: indeed, it is in Him that it finds full truth and freedom. Furthermore, in the Eucharistic celebration, the fruit of human labour, represented by bread and wine, is placed upon the altar every day to be transformed into the Body and Blood of Christ.

From this perspective, an important truth emerges: to encounter God, the human being must not abandon his earthly occupations, but can live his vocation fully, carrying out his daily work well and sanctifying it. [3] Christians, like everyone else, are involved in building the city of man, striving towards the end of all things and the encounter with God, and reminding those with whom they share the adventure of progress, science and life of this ultimate purpose.

Earthly progress must certainly be clearly distinguished from the development of the Kingdom of Christ; however, the Council affirms that “to the extent that the former can contribute to the better ordering of human society, it is of vital concern to the Kingdom of God. … All the good fruits of our nature and enterprise, we will find them again, but freed of stain, burnished and transfigured” (no. 39).

Finally, let us recall that in order to become authentic human progress – that is, progress for the whole person and for all people – technical and scientific progress must be inspired and guided by charity. Only in this way can it always be placed in the service of human dignity and promote the living conditions of all, especially the most disadvantaged.

Dear brothers and sisters, the Second Vatican Council invites us to share the bread of knowledge and know-how, so that every person and every people may develop their potential, and together, with God’s help, we may build a better future.

[1] Cf. H. de Lubac, Le drame de l’humanisme athée (1944).

[2] Cf. Catechism of the Catholic Church, nos. 302, 306, 307.

[3] Cf. Saint John Paul II, Homily for the Canonization of Josemaría Escrivá de Balaguer (6 October 2002).

Next Sunday, 27 September, marks the World Day of Migrants and Refugees. My thoughts go out to migrants and refugees, especially minors compelled to leave their homeland. Children and teenagers are the most vulnerable, and they often endure unspeakable suffering: violence, torture, exploitation, traumatic conditions, and it is not uncommon for them to lose their lives along migration routes. I appeal to everyone’s sense of responsibility: let us all feel a sense of involvement in the lives of these young people, who must always be protected and supported.

I greet all the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors taking part in today’s Audience, particularly the groups from England, Ireland, Denmark, Norway, Malta, Tanzania, Australia, Hong Kong, India, Malaysia, Singapore, Thailand, Vietnam and the United States of America.  Tomorrow in Saint Louis, Missouri, Venerable Fulton Sheen will be beatified.  May the example and intercession of this holy bishop, known for his evangelizing work through the media, inspire many others likewise to find new ways of spreading the Gospel message with joyful enthusiasm.  Upon all of you and your families, I invoke the peace and joy of our Lord Jesus Christ.  God bless you!

23.09.26

Dear brothers and sisters, happy Sunday!

In today’s liturgy, through the words of the prophet Isaiah, the Lord gives us great cause for hope, telling us that his thoughts are not our thoughts, that his ways are not our ways (cf. Is 55:8). Yes, God’s plans are infinitely greater — and, let us say, more “human”— than those that we men and women, marked by sin, can conceive or bring to fruition. Thus, the prophet’s call, which is more relevant than ever, is that we abandon our warped ways and return to the Lord, who is mercy and forgiveness (vv. 6–7).

In the Gospel, Jesus’ parables describe the newness of what God has in store for us; yet they also reveal the resistance we generally offer to a more generous justice and greater love. Today, in particular, we hear the story of the labourers called to work in the vineyard (cf. Mt 20:1–16) — some for a full day, some for only a few hours, and some only as the sun was setting. But the heart of the parable lies in the moment of payment, when the landowner keeps his word to the workers hired at the first hour and pays them as agreed; yet he wants them to see his goodness and, right before their eyes, treats the last ones in the same way.

One detail especially should not escape our notice. The landowner gives the steward a specific order that the workers are to be paid “beginning with the last and then going to the first” (Mt 20:8). The negative reaction of those who had worked all day, then, could easily have been avoided; it was intentional, however, because the revelation of God’s goodness is for everyone, not just for a few. God has different ways and fresh ideas even for those who consider themselves to be first and believe they have earned what they have, that they deserved the results they have achieved. Instead, we all gain joy, wisdom and a better future when the law of love interrupts that of calculation, when the experience of mercy broadens that of merit, and when the gift of peace suspends rivalries and brings us closer together in gratitude.

Brothers and sisters, it is indeed a grace to be God’s co-workers, to labour in his vineyard, to serve his Kingdom of justice and peace! There is no room for envy or division where God’s newness breaks forth. Therefore, let us seek the Lord while he may be found; let us call upon him while he is near; let us abandon crooked paths and wicked thoughts (cf. Is 55:6–7).

Let us look to our Most Holy Mother, for she is a creature like us yet without blemish. Thus, she can help us to hope in God and to entrust ourselves to his mercy, so that his ways may become our ways and his thoughts may become our thoughts.

Dear brothers and sisters,

With great concern, I am following the humanitarian crisis unfolding in certain areas of Somalia, where acts of violence and extreme weather events are exacerbating the already precarious living conditions of the population, particularly of women and children. I hope for the generous involvement of the international community, so that our brothers and sisters may not lack the necessary assistance.

Now, I extend my greetings to all of you, Romans and pilgrims.

I welcome the Bishop and the faithful from the Diocese of Toruń, Poland, who are visiting the sites of Eucharistic miracles in Italy; as well as the families from the Diocese of Spiš, Slovakia.

I greet the Jesuit Fathers, who are beginning their new course of studies in Rome, and the group from the Roman parish of the Holy Family of Nazareth, along with the “Centocelle” sports club and the “San Giuseppe Manyanet” Oratory.

I send my blessing to the people of Pescantina, near Verona, who today gather around the Monument to the Former Internees to remember those who were deported and held prisoner during the Second World War. I do so in order to emphasize that we must not forget, but rather learn from history so as not to repeat the mistakes of the past.

Dear friends, thank you for coming. I wish everyone a happy Sunday!

20.09.26

Brothers and sisters, good morning and welcome!

By dedicating the second chapter to the “human community”, the Constitution Gaudium et Spes (GS) invites us to consider “the growing interdependence of men” as “one of the salient features of the modern world” (no. 23). This reality must, however, find fulfilment “on the deeper level … of this communion between persons”, for which “a mutual respect for the full spiritual dignity of the person” is essential (ibid.).

These are statements which, in our times, have taken on even greater urgency. On the one hand, technological development, the spread of the mass media and social media, and the ever-increasing use of artificial intelligence are opening up new possibilities, breaking down barriers and bridging distances; on the other hand, relationships are tending to become less and less personal, more virtual, and there is a risk of becoming accustomed to delegating to algorithms decisions that are the sole preserve of the human conscience. Ensuring that social relationships have real substance and personal depth is, in this regard, the contribution that the Christian community seeks to offer.

The Council invites us to draw criteria and strength from God’s creative plan, in which He willed that “all men should constitute one family and treat one another in a spirit of brotherhood”, which is why “love for God and neighbour is the first and greatest commandment” which found its full revelation and complete fulfilment in Christ (cf. GS, 24).

The perfection of the human person and the development of society must be regarded as closely interdependent: to set them against one another or separate them would be to render them meaningless. History, even recent history, clearly confirms this truth; we must therefore never tire of reiterating, in the words of the Fathers of the Second Vatican Council, that “the subject and goal of all social institutions is and must be the human person which for its part and by its very nature stands completely in need of social life” (GS, 25).

From this perspective, Gaudium et Spes affirms that the diversity of people and peoples in the world must not be considered as a danger or a threat, but rather as a resource for enrichment and growth. Conflict, which at times degenerates into violence, is the result of the power of sin and the way it conditions mindsets and actions at every level, causing destruction and death. We must be ever more open to the logic of reciprocity, sharing and care, as is also the case amongst the various members of the human body (cf. 1 Cor 12:21–25).

On this point, the Pastoral Constitution also offers a concise definition of the “common good”, recalling that it consists of “the sum of those conditions of social life which allow social groups and their individual members relatively thorough and ready access to their own fulfilment” (GS, 26). At the same time, acknowledging the interdependence among peoples, its states that “every social group must take account of the needs and legitimate aspirations of other groups, and even of the general welfare of the entire human family” (GS, 26).

Starting from this premise, the Council Fathers then set out some “practical and particularly urgent consequences” (GS, 27). First and foremost, respect for the human person. Gaudium et Spes states: “Whatever is opposed to life itself, such as any type of murder, genocide, abortion, euthanasia or wilful self-destruction, whatever violates the integrity of the human person, such as mutilation, torments inflicted on body or mind, attempts to coerce the will itself; whatever insults human dignity, such as subhuman living conditions, arbitrary imprisonment, deportation, slavery, prostitution, the selling of women and children; as well as disgraceful working conditions, where men are treated as mere tools for profit, rather than free and responsible persons; all these things and others of their like are infamies indeed” (ibid.).

Second consequence: respect and love for adversaries or for those who think and act in ways different from our own (cf. GS, 28).

Thirdly: the fundamental equality of all human beings, which demands social justice. The Document states: “Every type of discrimination, whether social or cultural, whether based on sex, race, colour, social condition, language or religion, is to be overcome and eradicated as contrary to God’s intent” (GS, 29).

Finally, the Council Fathers exhort us to overcome the individualistic mindset and to adopt an attitude of responsibility and participation (cf. GS, 30-31).

Dear brothers and sisters, this vision of humanity as a “community of people” is a valuable legacy that the Second Vatican Council has left us. It helps us all to engage in personal and communal discernment, so that we may responsibly evaluate today’s social and political projects, based on the criteria of the dignity of the human person, social justice and free participation in constructing the common good. For the future of humanity depends on each person’s commitment to collaborate with God and with their brothers and sisters in building a more humane world (cf. GS, 30).

I extend a warm welcome to all the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors taking part in today’s Audience, especially those from England, Scotland, Norway, Ghana, South Africa, Uganda, Australia, India, Israel, the Philippines, Vietnam, Canada and the United States of America.  Upon each of you and your families, I invoke the joy and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ.  God bless you all!

16.09.26

Dear brothers and sisters, Happy Sunday!

Today’s Gospel speaks to us of forgiveness, which is a fundamental feature of the Christian life. Jesus taught and exemplified forgiveness even on the cross, where he prayed to the Father for his persecutors with the familiar words: “Forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing” (Lk 23:34).

In today’s passage, Peter asks the Master precisely about this question: “Lord, how often shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times?” (Mt 18:21). His words reveal a generous heart, for the number seven symbolises fullness in the Bible, and “forgiving seven times” means forgiving abundantly. Jesus’ response, however, goes even further: “I do not say to you seven times, but seventy times seven” (v. 22); in other words, beyond all limits, without measure.

To clarify his point further, the Saviour tells the parable of a servant who owed his master a large debt that was practically impossible to pay. Although his own debt was forgiven out of pure mercy, he did not extend the same mercy toward one of his fellow servants, and for this he was rebuked and severely punished (vv. 23-30).

With these words, Jesus reminds us that gift and forgiveness are the foundation of our existence. All things are given to us by God out of pure love, and none of us can claim to be perfect in responding to such goodness. For this reason, gratuitousness — which is the source of our existence — is also the best rule for our life together. We experience this every day. Forgiveness is indispensable, and without it, we cannot live in peace. Sooner or later conflicts, accusations, grudges and acts of vengeance emerge in our hearts and among people, and these acts destroy relationships, divide families and unleash wars.

Only forgiveness sets us free and restores the light, even where human material and moral poverty has darkened the horizon and made the path uncertain. Forgiveness, like a gentle breeze, sweeps away even the thickest clouds until the sun shines once more. Saint Peter himself experienced this many times in his life; in particular, when — after denying and abandoning Jesus during the Passion — he encountered the risen Lord on the shore of the lake and heard him ask just one question: “Simon … do you love me?” (Jn 21:15). This was accompanied by an invitation, “follow me!” (v. 19), which was the same invitation given on the occasion of their first encounter. It was as if nothing had happened. This love, which forgives and heals, would mark for the first of the Apostles, the confirmation of his mission.

Let us therefore ask the Virgin Mary, Mother of Mercy, to help us forgive — always, even when it is difficult to take the first step — and to spread, with courage and perseverance, the serene and healing light of love that overcomes hatred and disarms all resentment.

Dear brothers and sisters!

Two days ago marked the twenty-fifth anniversary of the September 11th terrorist attacks in the United States of America. I renew my prayers for those who lost their lives and for those who continue to bear the wounds of that tragic day. At a time when conflict and violence afflict so many of our brothers and sisters, I invite everyone to pray that the Lord will bestow his gift of peace upon the world.

The memory of the tragic event that took place twenty-five years ago prompts us to renew our commitment to peace, first and foremost through prayer, which we entrust to the intercession of the Virgin Mary.

Now I warmly greet all of you, Romans and pilgrims!

I welcome the groups from São Paulo, Brazil, and those from various other countries.

I greet the members of the Jesus Nazareno Cautivo Religious Association living in Rome, the group from the Salesian Oratory in Chieri, the faithful from Dolianova, Sardinia, and the pilgrims who have come from Assisi along the Way of Saint Francis.

I greet the “Bellunese Family” along with the Erechim School in Brazil, as well as the motorcyclists who have gathered to show their support for peace and life.

I wish everyone a happy Sunday.

13.09.26

Brothers and sisters, good morning and welcome!

The Conciliar Constitution Gaudium et Spes (GS), by dedicating the first chapter to the dignity of the human person, emphasizes that it is the foundation and condition for “those values which are most highly prized today”, but these must not lose sight of their “divine source”, in order to avoid possible distortions arising from the “taint in man’s human heart” (GS, 11).

The journey that made it possible to highlight the fundamental characteristics and rights of human dignity certainly represents one of the most significant chapters in human history. However, the path ahead is not yet complete and must address the contradictions, both old and new, which prevent its full realization.

The Church clearly offers her contribution, reminding us that human dignity arises from the very being of the person. I had the opportunity to reiterate this also in my recent Encyclical Magnifica Humanitas: “Every human person is planned and willed by God to enter into communion with Him, with others and with creation. Human dignity does not depend on a person’s abilities, wealth or position in life, nor on the right or wrong choices made; instead, it is a gift that precedes and transcends each person, endowed by God as an expression of His unfailing love” (no. 50). The infinite dignity of the human being, then, is rooted in his identity as a creature made “‘to God’s image’ … capable of knowing and loving his Creator”, a plan and gift of love that transcends other created realities, which are entrusted to his care to “subdue them and use them to God’s glory” (GS, 12).

In faith we can understand the ultimate foundation for the dignity of the person, inasmuch as the Son, “by the revelation of the mystery of the Father and His love, fully reveals man to man himself and makes his supreme calling clear” (no. 22).

The person always implies relationship, communion and participation in relation to God and to others; hence, a filial relationship with God the Father and a fraternal relationship with Christ and with all humankind. It excludes self-centred isolation. To be a person means to perceive oneself as a gift to be shared, growing and maturing through acceptance, reciprocity and service.

This dignity is entrusted to the responsibility of each person: at the same time, it also demands solidarity and mutual care, overcoming the many falsifications and manipulations that still disfigure our perception of it and hinder its realization. Indeed, as a result of the choices made throughout history that have run counter to this dignity, even today “man is split within himself”, and “all of human life, whether individual or collective, shows itself to be a dramatic struggle between good and evil between light and darkness”. This fragile and limited condition, however, can be regarded with hope, because “the Lord Himself came to free and strengthen man, renewing him inwardly and casting out that ‘prince of this world’ (John 12:31) who held him in the bondage of sin” (GS, 13).

Furthermore, the Constitution Gaudium et Spes affirms that human dignity concerns the whole person and, therefore, dualistic views must be overcome: the human being “though made of body and soul, is one”. Reducing the body to an “object” to be disposed of arbitrarily is always a denial of the dignity of the person: “man is not allowed to despise his bodily life” and “is obliged to regard his body as good and honourable since God has created it and will raise it up on the last day”, while ensuring that it does not become enslaved by “the evil inclinations of his heart” (GS, 14), since we are all wounded by sin.

Finally, there Gaudium et Spes recalls the three most significant expressions of the dignity of the person: intelligence, which makes the human being an insatiable seeker of the truth (no. 15); conscience, through which he gives unity and meaning to his life (no. 16), and freedom, which makes him the responsible agent of his own decisions (no. 17). These dimensions are closely connected to one another: it is in conscience that truth is recognized as such, and freedom can experience it as its foundation and possibility. The Holy Spirit, who gives life in Christ, makes us free and constantly assures us of our dignity as children of God, delivering us from fear and guiding us towards the ultimate goal, that life in its fullness beyond death which Christ has promised us. It is only in Him that the mystery of the human person finds true light; from Him we receive light on the enigma of suffering and death; and with Him we journey towards the Resurrection.

Dear brothers and sisters, created in God’s image, through Christ and for His sake, we have received a unique and indelible dignity. Let us commit ourselves to promoting and defending it always, with the light and strength of the Gospel.

I extend a warm welcome to all the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors taking part in today’s Audience, especially those from Scotland, Wales, Ireland, Denmark, Norway, South Africa, Australia, China, Japan, Lebanon, the Philippines, and the United States of America.  In a particular way, I gladly renew my welcome to the members of the Steering Committee of the Interreligious Platform for Dialogue and Cooperation in the Arab World, who are present today.  I thank you for your cooperation with the King Abdullah bin Abdulaziz International Centre for Interreligious and Intercultural Dialogue, and pray that your efforts to promote peaceful coexistence in the Arab region will indeed bear much fruit.  Upon each of you and your families, I invoke the joy and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ.  God bless you all!

09.09.26

Dear brothers and sisters, happy Sunday!

The word of God proclaimed in this Sunday’s liturgy offers us some fundamental criteria for thought and action.  In the Letter to the Romans, we read that every commandment is “summed up in this word, ‘Love your neighbour as yourself’” (Rom 13:9).  Saint Paul insists on this point with a very powerful image, one that also appears in the Lord’s Prayer.  He writes: “Owe no one anything, except to love one another” (v. 8).

Jesus taught us to ask for and to practice the forgiveness of debts.  Yet there is one debt we owe to one another that does not enslave us: the debt of mutual love.  All the attention, care and goodness we have received make us freer and more capable of responsibility.

In this Sunday’s Gospel, Jesus suggests at least two ways for every Christian community to practice mutual love.  The first is to become capable of fraternal correction.  This is a delicate art, too often forgotten, that calls for frankness and a gradual approach.  Speaking honestly with one another — first face to face, then, if necessary, with two or three others, and finally, when required, with the whole community — means facing reality and transforming problems and conflicts into opportunities for growth.  Complaining and speaking ill of others are easier, but they accomplish nothing and leave many situations paralyzed.  The Gospel, instead, teaches us the freedom that comes through charity.

There is also a second way of loving one another as brothers and sisters, which, for Jesus, transforms even our prayer: coming to an agreement.  Not only when there is a conflict, but also when asking God for some gift.  The Lord says: “If two of you agree on earth about anything you ask, it will be done for you by my Father in heaven” (Mt 18:19).  This promise suggests that we can have shared desires, shared sorrows and shared hopes, and that through prayer we can grow in unity.  Without faith, each person might feel alone and become suspicious of others, seeing them as strangers and enemies.  By grace, however, we are brothers and sisters who can live in harmony: meeting one another, forgiving one another and listening to one another in the Lord.

Let us ask Mary, who, after the angel’s announcement, went in haste to her cousin Elizabeth to share the joy and the hardship of pregnancy, to teach us, too, the joyful debt of fraternal love.

Dear brothers and sisters,

With a sorrowful heart, I have followed the news of the latest violent attacks that have recently struck several cities and civilian infrastructures in Ukraine, causing the deaths of innocent people.  My heart goes out to the suffering people, who for years have lived in anguish and fear.

I renew my appeal to put an end to the violence, to stop the destruction and to open hearts to dialogue and peace!  I hope that the efforts undertaken in these days to resume negotiations will bear concrete fruit and open space for diplomacy.

Let us raise our prayers to the Lord, that concord may prevail in all the conflicts of the world.

I extend a warm welcome to all of you, Romans and pilgrims from various countries. Thank you for being here!

In a particular way, I greet the community of the Interdiocesan Seminary Studienhaus Sankt Lambert of Lantershofen (Germany).

I also joyfully welcome the pilgrimage of the Parish of Sant’Ulderico Vescovo in Musestre (Treviso), as well as the Diocesan Choir of the Diocese of Oppido Mamertina-Palmi, accompanied by the Bishop.

As we gradually resume our ordinary activities after the summer break, let us ask the Lord to accompany us and sustain us with his light.

I wish everyone a happy Sunday!

06.09.26

Dear brothers and sisters, good morning and welcome!

With today’s meeting, we will begin to reflect on the Pastoral Constitution Gaudium et Spes, with which the Second Vatican Council intended to focus on a fundamental theme, namely the relationship between the Church and the contemporary world. Saint John XXIII, as early as his inaugural address of 11 October 1962, had sought to take issue with the “prophets of doom” who, “though burning with zeal for religion […] go about saying that our times, when compared with past centuries, are entirely worse; and go so far as to behave as if they had nothing to learn from history” (Address Gaudet Mater Ecclesia, 11 October 1962, 4.2). Hence the task entrusted to the Council Fathers: “In the present state of human events, in which humanity appears to be entering a new order of things, one must rather see the mysterious plans of Divine Providence, which are brought to fulfilment in due course through the work of men, and often beyond their expectations, and which, with wisdom, arrange everything, even adverse human affairs, for the good of the Church” (Gaudet Mater Ecclesia, 4.4).

Three years later, the promulgation of Gaudium et Spes recognized in this discernment an essential element of the nature of the Church, describing her pastoral character as constitutive; hence the definition of “pastoral Constitution”. It is not a question of naïve optimism, but rather a renewed fidelity to the Mystery of Christ who, by becoming incarnate, chooses to share our life: He made Himself “like His brethren in every respect” (Heb 2:17; cf. 4:15) and took upon Himself the consequences of sin, dying “as a ransom for all” (1 Tim 2:6). This sharing in our humanity is the path that Christ calls the Church to follow; hence, the Conciliar Constitution Gaudium et Spes begins by declaring that the Church makes her own “the joys and the hopes, the griefs and the anxieties of the men of this age, especially those who are poor or in any way afflicted” (GS 1).

It is a sharing that calls on us to leave behind all passivity and indifference in the face of current events, history and people’s lives, especially in the face of the rapid and profound changes we are experiencing today. We cannot remain as unengaged spectators; rather, we must listen with our hearts, allow ourselves to be challenged, and become involved. With Christ and sustained by the power of His Spirit, believers are called to take on the burdens of their brothers and sisters, especially those who are crushed by injustice, discrimination, and violence. Indeed, only in sharing and commitment is it possible to arrive at adequate responses, always supported by the certainty that “the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us” (Rm 8:18).

In this regard, proximity towards humanity opens the way to a deeper understanding of events and of Revelation itself; and, in the same vein, Gaudium et Spes recalls that “the Church has always had the duty of scrutinizing the signs of the times and of interpreting them in the light of the Gospel” (GS 4). This Conciliar Constitution therefore recalled the Church to an ongoing commitment to conversion, to bear witness that she is not motivated by “earthly ambition”, but seeks “a solitary goal: to carry forward the work of Christ under the lead of the befriending Spirit. And Christ entered this world to give witness to the truth, to rescue and not to sit in judgment, to serve and not be served” (GS, 3).

This is not, in fact, merely a moral imperative. Pope Francis reminded us that for the Church, “the option for the poor is primarily a theological category rather than a cultural, sociological, political or philosophical one… We are called to find Christ in them, to lend our voice to their causes, but also to be their friends, to listen to them, to speak for them and to embrace the mysterious wisdom which God wishes to share with us through them” (Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii Gaudium, 198).

Christian solidarity commits us to engaging with reality and also to unmasking the contradictions that characterize personal and social life in the contemporary world: for example, scientific and technological progress, which constantly offers new possibilities, but only to some, and which human beings do not always succeed in “subjecting .. to [their] own welfare”; or a clearer understanding of the “laws of society”, accompanied, however, by uncertainties “about the direction to give” them; or, again, a greater abundance of “wealth, resources and economic power”, which, unfortunately, today as in the days of the Council, leaves “a huge proportion of the world’s citizens … still tormented by hunger and poverty” (GS 4); or a shared awareness that the future of the planet is at stake, coupled with an inability to renounce selfish consumption and the illusion that war is an effective means of building peace.

In a time marked by profound changes, giving rise to worrying imbalances, the Church is called to serve the human person, listening to and welcoming the deepest questions of their heart and the longings that dwell within them, pointing to Christ as “the key, the focal point and the goal of … all human history” (GS 10). Therefore, in the Church, at every level and in every age, it is necessary to achieve the merciful kenosis of Christ, who “did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied Himself, taking the form of a servant … and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross” (Phil 2:6–8).

Dear brothers and sisters, may joy and hope – gaudium et spes – be the distinctive features of a Church who proclaims and bears witness to the Gospel, drawing close to the women and men of our time.

I extend a warm welcome to all the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors taking part in today’s Audience, especially those from England, Scotland, Malta, Canada and the United States of America.  In a particular way, I welcome the delegation of the Interreligious Platform for Dialogue and Cooperation in the Arab World. In expressing my deep appreciation for the work of the King Abdullah bin Abdulaziz International Centre for Interreligious and Intercultural Dialogue, I offer prayers for the success of your deliberations, together with the assurance of my spiritual closeness in these days.  Upon each of you and your families, I invoke the joy and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ.  God bless you all!

02.09.26

Dear brothers and sisters,

On this World Day of Prayer for the Care of Creation, the readings chosen for today’s liturgy offer us two invitations to contemplate the works of the Lord — a task that is certainly not difficult in the setting of these beautiful gardens.

The Book of Wisdom encourages us to contemplate the beauty and power of creation, in order to appreciate its Creator (cf. Wis 13:1–9).  It would be superficial to marvel at fire, wind, rushing waters or the stars of heaven, without allowing our gaze to rise to the Creator of such wonders.

Psalm 18 urges us to lift our eyes to contemplate the heavens, which proclaim the glory of God, and the firmament, which declares the work of his hands.  All creation speaks to us of the greatness of its Creator, if only our eyes and hearts remain open to such a great mystery.

Similarly, the Gospel passage from Matthew (cf. Mt 6:24–34) invites us to contemplate creation, while emphasizing the Lord’s special love for the human person.  As we look upon the birds of the air and the lilies of the field with wonder — so precious in the eyes of their Creator — we come to understand the greatness of God’s love for us.  If the Lord does not fail to bestow such splendid beauty upon plants and animals and provide for all their needs, how much more attentive will he be to the needs of his beloved sons and daughters!

This evening, as we accept the invitation to pause and reflect before the works of God, we begin the “Season of Creation” — a period of five weeks devoted to prayer and commitment to the care of our “common home.”  On this Day, therefore, and in the weeks ahead, let us set aside a few moments to pause from the frenzy of our daily lives, in order to savor the profound harmony of which we ourselves are a part.  Let us place in “silent mode” the many noises generated by human activity, so that we may hear the melodious voice of creation, through which God, the Author of all things, speaks to us.

This task of contemplation, which disposes us to an encounter with the Lord, is a first step towards an “authentic ecological conversion, where the effects of our encounter with Jesus Christ become evident in our relationship with the world around us” (Message for the Eleventh World Day of Prayer for the Care of Creation, 1 September 2026).

From contemplating creation and encountering its Creator, there arises an awareness of our particular place within God’s wondrous plan, and of the responsibility that we bear both personally and collectively for preserving the original harmony. Thus, as we become conscious of our shortcomings and failures, we can renew our commitment to restoring the relationships among all creatures according to the will of their Creator.

For this reason, the Message for today’s World Day echoes “the prophetic call to ‘beat swords into ploughshares’ (Is 2:4)… to transform harm into life.”  It is not yet too late, and the Season of Creation calls us to a profound conversion: “What has been used for destruction can be redirected toward life, toward the care of the poor, the nourishment of the hungry, and the safeguarding of creation” (ibid.).

The Season we begin today will conclude on 4 October, when we will celebrate the eighth centenary of the Transitus of Saint Francis of Assisi.  Pope Francis drew particular inspiration from him in writing the Encyclical Letter Laudato Si’ and in giving life to the Borgo that welcomes us today.

Let us therefore unite ourselves spiritually with the Poverello of Assisi and make his Canticle of praise our own:

“Praised be you, my Lord, with all your creatures,

especially Sir Brother Sun…

Praised be you, my Lord, through Sister Moon and the stars…

Praised be you, my Lord, through Brother Wind...

Praised be you, my Lord, through Sister Water…

Praised be you, my Lord, through Brother Fire…

Praised be you, my Lord, through our Sister Mother Earth, who sustains and governs us.”

With Saint Francis, let us renew our commitment to living and promoting that universal fraternity which is inseparably bound to the task of caring for creation.

01.09.26 m

 “They shall beat their swords into plowshares

and their spears into pruning hooks” (Isaiah 2:4)

 Dear Brothers and Sisters,

Our Lord Jesus Christ came so that we might have life and have it in abundance (cf. Jn 10:10). This gift of life lies at the very heart of our mission as disciples and of our shared calling to build a civilization of love. As we observe this World Day of Prayer for the Care of Creation, we are once again invited to contemplate the gift of life and to cherish the earth that sustains it, for they are tangible ways of offering praise to our Creator.

Today, we are witnessing many crises and much human suffering. At the same time, it seems that the disruption to the harmonious balance of creation is accelerating. These phenomena are not unrelated; they are a single plea for healing and peace arising from a wounded world.

The God of life, revealed in Jesus Christ, offers a peace that the world cannot give: “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you” (Jn 14:27). This peace is neither superficial nor fleeting; it flows from the enduring love of Christ and his care for every human person.

Yet this promise of peace stands in stark contrast to the realities we see in many parts of the world. The prophet Isaiah spoke of a time when nations “shall beat their swords into plowshares” (Is 2:4), transforming what destroys life into what sustains it. But today, we too often witness the very opposite, as efforts continue to be directed toward violence and war.

War leaves wounds that extend far beyond the battlefield. It claims lives, tears families apart and forces millions to flee their homes, thereby deepening fear, injustice and division (cf. Gaudium et Spes, 77-82). War also leaves behind social and ecological destruction that endures for generations. Moreover, the interaction between armed conflicts and environmental degradation often creates a vicious cycle, which destroys ecosystems, contaminates essential resources, such as air and water, and undermines food security. This fuels poverty, inequality, and new social tensions that can contribute to the emergence of further conflicts.

What is more, war creates wounds that damage the whole fabric of life, harming not only individual persons and communities, but also their broader network of relationships with the whole human family, and their harmony with creation. It reveals a deeper failure to live in God’s image and likeness, to respect life and to care for the earth entrusted to us. This is not only a political failure, but also a moral and spiritual one. Rooted in distorted desires and the misuse of human freedom and power, war stands as a counter-witness to the Gospel of peace.

The above-mentioned crises call not only for responsibility but also for a conversion of heart that will bear fruit in a deeper fidelity to God, love of one another and respect for the gift of creation. Indeed, the discord we see in the world, such as violence, injustice and ecological degradation, is not simply the result of flawed systems or structures; it is a “symptom of the deeper dichotomy that is rooted in humanity itself” (Gaudium et Spes, 10). In fact, the human heart is the place where the deepest struggles unfold and our fallen condition reveals itself. It is not merely the seat of emotion, but the center of the person — the place where reason, desire, will and conscience converge. It is here that we wrestle with the contradictory desires within us between love and indifference, truth and illusion, justice and injustice (cf. Jas 1:14–15). The wounds of war and the degradation of the earth, then, are profoundly linked to the condition of the human heart. The conflicts that torment humanity are in many ways the outward expression of interior discord and division. When the heart is distorted, relationships suffer, and the structures we build begin to reflect that disorder.

Pope Benedict XVI reminded us that “the external deserts in the world are growing, because the internal deserts have become so vast” (Homily for the Solemn Inauguration of the Petrine Ministry, 24 April 2005). This calls us to recognize that, in some way, what is broken around is also broken within us. In order to build a peaceful society, therefore, we must not only reform structures but also renew our hearts. The deep-set causes of conflict and the exploitation of creation stem from an ethical and cultural crisis, including the loss of a sense of limits, the desire for domination, the pursuit of immediate profit, and the inability to recognize the God-given dignity of each human person.

The prophetic call to “beat swords into plowshares” (Is 2:4) is therefore not only a vision for nations, but a call to each person. It invites us to transform harm into life. Yet this transformation cannot be achieved through external change alone. It requires, through cooperating with God’s grace, a deeper personal and collective conversion — a returning to God, who will reorder our desires, heal our wounds and help us grow in virtue.

Without this inner transformation, peace will remain fragile and short-lived. But where hearts are renewed, new possibilities begin to open. What has been used for destruction can be redirected toward life, toward the care of the poor, the nourishment of the hungry, and the safeguarding of creation. This is the path of authentic ecological conversion, where the effects of our encounter with Jesus Christ become evident in our relationship with the world around us (cf. Francis, Laudato Si’, 217). Peace, then, begins in the heart and flows outward to our relationships, communities and the broader world.

Although the challenges before us are enormous, God does not leave us without the means of healing and transformation. In place of the weapons of war, the God of peace grants us the strength to heal, to reconcile and to build a civilization of love. In this way, we are called to safeguard the many “ecosystems” entrusted to us: the ecosystems of creation, of human relationships and of the human heart itself.

Let us imagine a world in which the energies currently invested in war are directed toward integral human development, to overcoming poverty, protecting human dignity and reconciling divided peoples. Such a vision reflects faith in the coming of God’s Kingdom.

The true tools for building peace are not weapons of destruction, instead they are truth, dialogue, patience, goodness, justice, mercy, understanding, care and love. These flow from hearts shaped by the Gospel and sustained by God’s grace. Only these qualities possess the power to transform individuals, renew communities and heal the wounds of our world.

Dear brothers and sisters, the path before us is clear, though it is not easy. We are called to allow our hearts to be renewed, so that we might seek peace and care for creation. Scripture tells us to guard our hearts, for everything we do flows from them (cf. Prov 4:23).

If we take up this task with humility and faith, we will become collaborators in God’s work of renewal. We will move, slowly but surely, from desert to garden, from division to communion, and from violence to peace.

May the Lord grant us the courage to walk along this path, so that in our time, swords may indeed be beaten into plowshares, and the promise of the Gospel may take deeper root in our world, and the peace of Christ may reign over all of creation.

From the Vatican, 15 August 2026, Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary.

LEO PP. XIV

Dear brothers and sisters, good afternoon and happy Sunday!

Today’s Gospel tells us how Jesus reveals to his disciples the Mystery of his impending Passion.  The Messiah, he says, must “go to Jerusalem and undergo great suffering at the hands of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised” (Mt 16:21).

What he says is a far cry from their expectations of a triumphant and powerful Messiah, with whose help they would defeat and trample their enemies (cf. Ps 108:13).  Already, during the time they had spent with him, they had been amazed by so many of his deeds and words.  Yet this latest message truly goes beyond all expectations.  In particular, Peter expresses his disagreement and rebukes Jesus, saying to him: “‘God forbid it, Lord!  This must never happen to you’” (v. 22).

Shortly before, Peter had recognized in him “the Messiah, the Son of the living God” (v. 16).  Now, however, surprised and perhaps disappointed by what he hears, he rebukes him, which stands in contrast to the beautiful profession of faith he had just made.  He seems to be saying, “Yes, I believe you are the Messiah, but that is not how the world is saved.”  His is an outburst of zeal, certainly motivated by sincere love, and yet it gives us something to consider.

For us, too, in fact, it is not always easy to understand and accept God’s ways, especially when they are very far from our own.  Then the temptation arises — against all the reasoning of faith — to think that the Lord is the one who is wrong, or worse still, that he is not listening to us or is not concerned about us.  Faced with this uncertainty, Peter, even in his impulsiveness, teaches us two important things.

The first is, even in such moments, never to cease our dialogue with the Lord.  Instead, we are confidently to tell him our difficulty in understanding what he is asking of us.

The second is never to judge God’s work, but rather humbly and prayerfully to listen to what he is revealing to us through his actions, even when they do not meet our expectations.

The greatness of the first of the Apostles is also evident in this.

Jesus replies: “Get behind me, Satan!” (v. 23), and explains to him and the other disciples that, to follow in his footsteps, they must deny themselves, take up their crosses, and follow him (cf. v. 24).  Peter will do just that: after listening to him, he will accept the challenge and remain faithful to the words of Christ — whom he has recognized as his Redeemer — for the rest of his life, even unto martyrdom.

Let us therefore ask the Lord that we, too, in our life of faith and in our prayer, may have the same sincerity as Peter, humbly telling Jesus what we truly feel, even when our hearts are confused.  At the same time, may we cultivate Peter’s own docility in accepting what Jesus asks of us beyond our expectations.

May Mary help us, for she was obedient to God’s plans even at the foot of the cross of her Son Jesus.

Dear brothers and sisters,

Tragic reports are emerging from Haiti of the horrific massacre carried out in Kenscoff, in which numerous people have lost their lives and others taken hostage.  I express my spiritual closeness to the victims and their families, and call for the immediate release of all hostages.  I make a heartfelt appeal to all those in positions of authority to take concrete steps in order to ensure the safety of the population and put an end to all forms of violence.

I renew my prayers for those affected by the terrible flood that struck Nepal and Tibet.  Let us pray for those who have lost their lives, for the injured, those missing, for the families and rescue workers.  May the concern of everyone help to alleviate the suffering and provide the necessary aid to the people affected.

Let us continue to pray for peace.  Saint Augustine, whose feast we celebrated a few days ago, said that peace “is like the miraculous bread multiplied in the hands of the disciples as they broke it and distributed it” (Sermo 357, 2).  May there be an increase in the world of those who courageously break and share the bread of peace, overcoming divisions, promoting justice and practicing forgiveness for the good of all.

On Tuesday, we celebrate the World Day of Prayer for the Care of Creation.  This marks the beginning of the Season of Creation – observed by Christians of various denominations – whose theme this year is “Living Water.”  As I recalled in the Message for this Day, caring for our common home calls for a conversion of heart, so that what has been used to bring about destruction may instead be directed toward life.  I invite everyone to join in prayer and action, that we may become channels of the living water of God’s peace, refreshing our wounded world.

I greet all of you: the faithful of Castel Gandolfo and pilgrims from various countries.  In particular, I welcome the participants in the “Run to Rome” charity event, the young people who have undertaken the Via Lucis pilgrim route, the group of devotees of Our Lady of Miracles of Corbetta and the motorcyclists here for their traditional annual gathering.

I would like to thank the law enforcement agencies and all those who have helped to enable my summer stay here in Castel Gandolfo, as well as those responsible for security during my meetings with the pilgrims.  Thank you very much!

I also send warm greetings to the faithful following the Angelus from Saint Peter’s Square.

I wish you all a happy Sunday!

30.08.26

Dear brothers and sisters,

In this final catechesis on the Constitution Sacrosanctum Concilium, today I would like to look at the reasons why the Council Fathers sought to promote a reform of the liturgy. In this regard, the third Letter from the Council, which Cardinal Giovanni Battista Montini, then archbishop of Milan, sent on 28 October 1962 to the faithful of his Church, is particularly enlightening. The liturgy, he wrote, “is a sincere expression of both the divine and the human. It is language. On the one hand, it is a vehicle for divine teaching; on the other, it is a voice in dialogue with God. It is clear that it cannot renounce its didactic function, nor can it fail to offer faith and piety the opportunity to be expressed with spontaneous intelligibility”. [1] Motivated by these convictions, the future Pope Saint Paul VI affirmed that the faithful “cannot and must no longer remain silent and passive. Their physical presence cannot be reconciled with their spiritual absence”. [2]

The similarity between these statements and those which would appear in no. 48 of the Conciliar Constitution is evident: “The Church … earnestly desires that Christ’s faithful, when present at this mystery of faith, should not be there as strangers or silent spectators; on the contrary, through a good understanding of the rites and prayers they should take part in the sacred action conscious of what they are doing, with devotion and full collaboration. They should be instructed by God’s word and be nourished at the table of the Lord’s body; they should give thanks to God; by offering the Immaculate Victim, not only through the hands of the priest, but also with him, they should learn also to offer themselves; through Christ the Mediator they should be drawn day by day into ever more perfect union with God and with each other, so that finally God may be all in all”. These words express a renewed awareness of the value of the liturgy. Through the Church’s ritual actions, whilst the memorial of the work of salvation is celebrated, the opportunity is provided to experience a true relationship with God, coming into contact with the salvific event. Since the gestures, the words of the sacred liturgy are critical to realizing this experience, the participation of the faithful cannot be passive.

The Conciliar reform, by placing at the centre that which constitutes the heart of the ecclesial experience, was intended to allow the liturgy to shine forth as “the primary source of that divine exchange in which the life of God is communicated to us”. [3] From this conviction arose the need to make the richness of the biblical texts and prayers more accessible to all the faithful, and to streamline the order of the celebration compared with that set out in the liturgical books then in use.

Indeed, since the liturgy is a living entity, throughout the centuries it has always been subject to developments and changes. The Magisterium adapted its forms to the needs of different eras. It is therefore not surprising that the Second Vatican Council too, with the utmost respect for the heritage of tradition, and precisely in order to make it more accessible, considered it necessary to revise the liturgical books.

The aim that the Fathers had in mind is explained in no. 21 of the Constitution Sacrosanctum Concilium: “In order that the Christian people may more certainly derive an abundance of graces from the sacred liturgy, holy Mother Church desires to undertake with great care a general restoration of the liturgy itself. For the liturgy is made up of immutable elements divinely instituted, and of elements subject to change. These not only may but ought to be changed with the passage of time if they have suffered from the intrusion of anything out of harmony with the inner nature of the liturgy or have become unsuited to it. In this restoration, both texts and rites should be drawn up so that they express more clearly the holy things which they signify; the Christian people, so far as possible, should be enabled to understand them with ease and to take part in them fully, actively, and as befits a community”. The distinction, within the liturgy, between divine, immutable elements, and human elements, which instead “admit of various modifications, as the needs of the age, circumstance and the good of souls may require, and as the ecclesiastical hierarchy, under guidance of the Holy Spirit, may have authorized”, dates back to Pope Pius XII’s Encyclical Mediator Dei (Acta Apostolicae Sedis 39, 1947, 541–542).

Moreover, the desire for a “general reform” did not come about suddenly, but had been evident in the actions of successive Popes since the beginning of the twentieth century, in keeping with the demands of the Liturgical Movement. The assertion that the faithful should not attend celebrations “as strangers or silent spectators” had already been raised in Pope Pius XI’s Apostolic Constitution Divini Cultus. Furthermore, one may recall Pius XII’s interventions regarding the ordering of the rites of Holy Week, which he rescheduled to the hours corresponding to the events of Easter, after they had for centuries been brought forward to the morning hours. Nor should it be forgotten that Saint John XXIII regarded it necessary to simplify the rubrics of the Breviary and the Missal, approving this with the Motu proprio Rubricarum instructum of 25 July 1960, in which he referred the proposal of fundamental principles for a reform of the liturgy.

The liturgical reform promoted by the Second Vatican Council is thus firmly rooted in the living tradition of the Church. A correct understanding of it also enables us to reject the abuses that occurred in certain sectors of the Church during the post-Conciliar period, and which, unfortunately, still occur from time to time today, where some of the principles underlying the reform itself have been taken to extremes or misunderstood.

In this regard, it is worth recalling that the Conciliar Constitution affirms that “Liturgical services are not private functions, but are celebrations of the Church, which is the ‘sacrament of unity’, namely, the holy people united and ordered under their bishops. Therefore liturgical services pertain to the whole body of the Church; they manifest it and have effects upon it” (Sacrosanctum Concilium, no. 26).

It is therefore the primary responsibility of pastors, of bishops but also of each individual priest, to safeguard and promote a liturgy which, while respecting liturgical norms, shines with noble simplicity (cf. no. 34) and thus manifests the one, holy, catholic and apostolic Church. Such a liturgy will also be a fundamental vehicle for evangelization, the instrument of grace through which, as the Council teaches, we may learn to offer ourselves and, through Christ’s mediation, be perfected in unity with God and amongst ourselves (cf. no. 48).

I greet all the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors taking part in today’s Audience, particularly the groups from Malta, Senegal and Canada.  A special greeting to those serving in the National Offices of the Pontifical Mission Societies.  Upon you and your families, I invoke the joy and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ. God bless you all!

26.08.26

Dear brothers and sisters, happy Sunday!

This Sunday’s Gospel (Mt 16:13-20) confronts us with a question that speaks to each of us on our journey of faith: Who is Jesus, truly, for me?

The Gospel passage makes us understand how decisive this question is for the experience of discipleship.  Indeed, although the twelve apostles had already shared so much of the life and ministry of their teacher, Jesus did not take for granted that they truly knew him or had understood the mystery of the Kingdom of God.  Thus, after asking them what people were saying about him, he addressed them directly: “But who do you say that I am?” (Mt 16:15).

Brothers and sisters, this is a fundamental question for the disciples of every age, and for each one of us.  Faith is not something given to us once and for all.  Rather, we continually need to rediscover the face of Christ and his Gospel, to enter more deeply into his message and to renew the choices we make in our lives, so that they may be consistent with what we profess.  In this way, we can overcome the temptation to think that we already know everything and to reduce faith to mere habit.

The question that is put to us each day — who is Jesus for me, and what does his presence mean in my life? — emerges especially in prayer and when we meditate on the Gospel.  Yet it also arises when we encounter the wounds and needs of our brothers and sisters, and in those relationships and situations that most deeply challenge our conscience.  In our daily lives, in short, we can discover whether the Lord Jesus is for us merely a great figure of history, who said and did important things, or the Christ of God, the One sent to bring us into the love of the Father and to transform our lives and the world in which we live.

Dear brothers and sisters, let us seek not to retreat into our own convictions and religious certainties, but to remain open to an authentic relationship with Christ.  At times, when it comes to the Christian faith, we may be content with what we have merely “heard,” with common assumptions or with what has been handed down to us, perhaps even with the best of intentions.  Yet Jesus calls us to give a personal response, to know him more closely and to allow ourselves to be shaped by friendship with him through an ever new encounter.  This may also ask us to follow unfamiliar paths and to make choices different from those we had imagined.

This is true both for our personal journey and for the journey of the Church, as well as for our pastoral choices, when we may sometimes think that it is enough simply to continue doing things as we have always done them.  Instead, it is important to ask ourselves often: Who is the Lord for me?  Do I truly know him?  What is his Gospel asking of me today?  What steps and what choices am I called to make?

Let us invoke the Blessed Virgin Mary, who sought the will of God in her heart through her Son, that she may always guide us along the path of faith.

Dear brothers and sisters,

In my prayers, I often remember the Democratic Republic of the Congo, especially in light of the spread of the Ebola epidemic, which is sadly claiming many lives. I encourage on the part of the international community a response that also involves local communities in efforts of prevention, so that many human lives may be saved.

I am also close to the people of the Central African Republic, who are mourning the victims of the collapse at a mine in Zamboyé. May the Lord receive those who have lost their lives and sustain efforts to ensure safety and respect for the law at mining sites.

Tomorrow marks the tenth anniversary of the earthquake that struck central Italy, affecting Lazio, Umbria and the Marche. I pray for the deceased and for their families, as well as for all the communities involved. May faith and solidarity continue to sustain the work of reconstruction.

I greet all of you with affection, Romans and pilgrims from various countries.

In particular, I extend a warm welcome to the Primatial Choir of Gniezno Cathedral in Poland; to the seminarians and faculty of the Pontifical North American College; and to the young people from Bormio and Valfurva.

I wish everyone a happy Sunday!

23.08.26

Dear brothers and sisters,

The sixth chapter of the Constitution Sacrosanctum Concilium (SC) of the Second Vatican Council is dedicated to sacred music. The document states that “The musical tradition of the universal Church is a treasure of inestimable value, greater even than that of any other art. The main reason for this pre-eminence is that, as sacred song united to the words, it forms a necessary or integral part of the solemn liturgy.” (SC, 112). It specifies that “Sacred music is to be considered the more holy in proportion as it is more closely connected with the liturgical action, whether it adds delight to prayer, fosters unity of minds, or confers greater solemnity upon the sacred rites. But the Church approves of all forms of true art having the needed qualities, and admits them into divine worship.” (ibid.).

Here we find the core of the Council’s teaching, which confirms and deepens the ministerial function of music in the liturgy, which had already been highlighted by Saint Pius X in the Motu Proprio Inter sollicitudines (22 November 1903). Music, indeed, is part of the liturgical action and is not merely a decorative part of the celebration. In the liturgy, to sing and to play music means to pray, attuning one’s heart to that of our sisters and brothers and to God, through active participation in the mystery that is being celebrated. In particular, music expresses the affective dimension of prayer, as Saint Augustine says: “Cantare amantis est”, that is, “singing belongs to those who love” (Sermo 336, 1). This is very important, because it helps us to open our hearts to God’s action in grace and to allow ourselves to be moulded by it.

Singing also fosters communion. It contributes to the unity of hearts, overcoming differences between people and bringing everyone together in praise of God through the symphony of voices. Thus, it becomes an epiphany of the Church, a tangible manifestation of the communion that belongs to her very nature.

Certain requirements arise from the profound theological significance of sacred song as an integral part of the liturgical action. The first is that it must respond at every level to what is most appropriate for the liturgical moment, beyond fashions or the particular sensitivities of composers. Its form, especially in its melodic aspect, must be at once noble and simple, of high musical quality and easily performable, particularly when it is intended to be sung by the whole assembly (cf. SC, 121).

For the same reason, the Council recommends that the texts too should be suitable, profound and at the same time readily understandable, inspired mainly by Sacred Scripture, the liturgical books and the spiritual Tradition of the Church. Attention must be paid to this, so that the dynamic expressed in the ancient principle lex orandi, lex credendi, that is, the law of prayer is also the law of faith, may remain alive and continue to grow.

Sacrosanctum Concilium devotes considerable attention to the theme of the active participation of the faithful (cf. no. 114). This “must be understood […] on the basis of a greater awareness of the mystery being celebrated and its relationship to daily life” (Benedict XVI, Apostolic Exhortation Sacramentum caritatis, 52), in a “spirit of constant conversion which must mark the lives of all the faithful” (ibid., 55). As for the concrete way in which this can be achieved through the specific role of sacred music, the Constitution offers a clear answer: “the people should be encouraged to take part by means of acclamations, responses, psalmody, antiphons, and songs” and “reverent silence” should be fostered (SC, 30). It urges each person, minister or member of the faithful, to perform “all of, but only, those parts which pertain to his office by the nature of the rite and the principles of liturgy” (SC, 28), in the harmonious balance between the different ministries, the various interventions and moments of silence.

The Council then attributes great value to Gregorian chant, without excluding other genres of sacred music from the celebration. Particular attention is also given to the organ (cf. SC, 120), while the use of other instruments is permitted “on condition that the instruments are suitable, or can be made suitable, for sacred use, accord with the dignity of the temple, and truly contribute to the edification of the faithful” (SC, 120).

A theme close to the Council’s reform is that of inculturation, including in the field of sacred music. In particular, with regard to the musical traditions of different cultures, the Council emphasizes the importance of taking them seriously into consideration, as they form part of people’s religious and social life. Therefore, on the one hand, an “attitude toward religion” should be promoted in everyone (SC, 119). On the other hand, as far as may be practicable […] every effort should be made to see that the traditional music of these peoples, both in schools and in sacred services may be promoted (cf. ibid.).

A particular role in the liturgical context is given to the schola cantorum. The Council recommends the promotion of this pastoral instrument, to ensure the “proper performance of the parts which belong to it, according to the different kinds of music sung, and to encourage the active participation of the faithful in the singing” (Sacred Congregation of Rites, Instruction Musicam sacram, 19).

For this reason, the composer of sacred music is called to know and preserve the musical heritage of the Church, allowing it to inspire new compositions at the service of the liturgy, while respecting contemporary sensibilities and the different cultural traditions, so as “‘purify worship from ugliness of style, from distasteful forms of expression, from uninspired musical texts which are not worthy of the great act that is being celebrated’, to guarantee dignity and excellence to liturgical compositions” (Saint John Paul II, Chirograph on Sacred Music, 22 November 2003, 3).

For all these reasons, the Council Fathers recommend promoting the formation and practice of sacred music “in seminaries, in the novitiates and houses of study of religious of both sexes, and also in other Catholic institutions and schools” (SC, 115), and ensuring that musicians and singers receive sound liturgical formation (cf. ibid.).

Dear brothers and sisters, the Fathers of the Church held liturgical singing in great esteem as a symbol of ecclesial communion. We can therefore conclude with these beautiful words of Saint Ignatius of Antioch: “Let each of you unite to become a choir, so that, harmonious in love and taking up the song of God in unison, you may sing with one voice through Jesus Christ to the Father, so that he may hear you and recognize, from the good works you perform, that you are members of his Son” (cf. Letter to the Ephesians, 4, 2).

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

19.08.26

Dear brothers and sisters, happy Sunday!

Yesterday we contemplated the Virgin Mary in her unbreakable bond with her Son. Not even death could sever that union of persons in soul and body, which is eternal life. Every Sunday reminds us that the same fulfillment is reserved for those who follow Jesus. His resurrection is not a past event, but new life that draws us in.

This is demonstrated today by the Canaanite woman, who is the protagonist of the Gospel proclaimed at Mass (cf. Mt 15:21-28). Although she did not belong to his people and lived in a foreign land, she persistently sought to speak with Jesus, following him like a disciple who already had a bond with him. They had probably never met before, yet in a mysterious way, faith had already taken root in her. She does not desire anything for herself, but rather peace for her tormented daughter. She places her trust in Jesus, in whom she recognizes the Messiah, a descendant of David (cf. v. 22).

The Evangelist does not hide the obstacles faced by this woman. The disciples see her as a nuisance, and Jesus himself resists her pleas. The Master had actually withdrawn to that region (cf. v. 21), and we can imagine that, as on other occasions, he was seeking a secluded place to pray and instruct his disciples. At that moment, however, something unexpected happens. Reflecting upon this, we can understand Jesus’ obedience in fulfilling his mission by allowing himself to be moved by what he sees and hears. Finally, he says to her: “Woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish” (v. 28).

Even today, the Church can be surprised by God’s work and spread the peace of Christ beyond boundaries already drawn. Her mission is anticipated by divine grace, which works in the depths of our consciences, so that in every encounter — even those that disrupt our plans — we are to listen attentively by opening our eyes and hearts to what God wants to tell us.

From the Canaanite woman we learn humility and determination. Thanks to her faith, we learn that God’s table is set for everyone and that no one is left merely with crumbs (cf. vv. 26-27), because each person has his or her own place with the Father. In the light of this faith, inequalities, discrimination and barriers that trample on the dignity of too many of God’s sons and daughters become unbearable.

Dear brothers and sisters, we are the Church of Jesus Christ in a troubled world; a world that seeks peace. Let us ask Mary, our Mother, to intercede for us “because on her lips is proclaimed ‘the strongest and most innovative hymn ever articulated, the Magnificat’” (Magnifica Humanitas, 244). It is the song of one who now sees reality through God’s eyes and, for this reason, does not lose hope and acts in charity.

Dear brothers and sisters,

I renew my appeal for an end to the ongoing violence against the Palestinian civilian population in the West Bank, and I urgently call on the international community to work toward advancing the two-state solution, for a just and lasting peace.

The Mediterranean Games will begin this week in Taranto. They will include various countries from Africa, Asia and Europe that are part of the Mediterranean region. I hope this sporting event will be a sign of peace and friendship among the peoples of this region and the entire world.

And now I welcome all of you who have gathered here at Castel Gandolfo for the Sunday Angelus.

I warmly welcome pilgrims from various countries. In greeting the Polish pilgrims, I extend my blessing to the many women participating in the traditional pilgrimage to the Shrine of Piekary Śląskie, in Upper Silesia.

I wish everyone a happy Sunday.

16.08.26

Dear brothers and sisters,

Today we celebrate the Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary. This is a feast of great importance for both Catholic theology and popular piety. Indeed, it is a deeply cherished celebration in many communities, especially where the cathedral or parish church is dedicated to Our Lady of the Assumption.

To contemplate this mystery of the faith, we can turn to the two iconographic models that artists have used over the centuries to depict this event.

The first, which is also the oldest — having been the only one for nearly a millennium — depicts the Dormition of the Mother of God. She is shown lying on a catafalque, asleep in death; around her are the Apostles, who are moved to venerate her in prayer; and in the centre is the risen Jesus, holding Mary’s soul in his arms like a newborn child. Jesus came to take her to be with him in the glory of God, which we call heaven. In this way, the Lord fulfilled for his Mother what he had promised to all his friends: “when I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also” (Jn 14:3).

This first model highlights the central truth. Having died and risen, it is Christ who leads us to the destination for which we have been created, namely eternal life. This is what generations of the faithful have contemplated while praying before the icons of the Dormition, and what can be admired in Rome, in the great mosaic of the apse of the Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore.

The more recent iconography, which developed later in the West, depicts the Virgin Mary in full stature, in heaven, enveloped in light, often surrounded by angels and saints. In the centre of the image is the glorified body of the Virgin Mary, in accordance with what is written in the Book of Revelation: “A great portent appeared in heaven: a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars” (Rev 12:1).

Some artists have combined the two ideas, depicting the glorious Virgin at the top of the image and her empty tomb, often filled with multicolored flowers, at the bottom, with the Apostles gazing up at her in heaven.

This second model highlights the truth that Mary was assumed into heaven body and soul, that is in the entirety of her person. The woman who, on earth, gave flesh and blood to the Incarnate Word and followed him to the point of perfect union in the sacrifice of love was then drawn by him forever into glory.

In such a way, this iconography allows us to contemplate our ultimate destiny. The fullness of life, which we joyfully admire today in Mary, awaits us as well at the end of time, when, as Saint Paul says, the Risen Christ “will change our lowly body to be like his glorious body” (Phil 3:21), clothing what is perishable with incorruptibility and what is mortal with immortality (cf. 1 Cor 15:54). Then, with our flesh transformed by the love of the Redeemer, we will live forever in an endless celebration.

Let us praise the Lord, who has done great things in his and our Most Holy Mother!

The Blessed Virgin Mary, assumed into the glory of heaven, is a sign of hope and consolation for the entire People of God.  For this reason, I wish to invoke her maternal intercession today on behalf of those communities that are in particular need of consolation and of renewed hope.  My thoughts go out to our brothers and sisters in the Holy Land, which is also, par excellence, the Land of Mary.  My thoughts also go out to the Ukrainian and Russian peoples, both of whom are united by their filial devotion to the Holy Mother of God, and to Christians who suffer discrimination or even persecution.

I continue to pray for the people of Colombia who are suffering due to the earthquake.  I stand in solidarity with these communities and with all those living in difficult circumstances, and together with them I pray: “Holy Mary, pray for us!”

I extend my greetings to all of you, the faithful of Castel Gandolfo and pilgrims who have come from Italy and other countries. Thank you for your presence and thank you for your prayers!

I hope that everyone will be able to enjoy a time of rest, to recharge both body and spirit — perhaps with some good reading and time spent in nature.

Have a wonderful celebration today, and see you tomorrow!

15.08.26 a

Dear brothers and sisters,

It is with great joy that I celebrate the Solemnity of the Assumption with you once again this year.

The Magisterium of the Church teaches us that Mary “having completed the course of her earthly life, was assumed body and soul into heavenly glory” (Pius XII, Apostolic Constitution Munificentissimus Deus, 1 November 1950) and points out to us, in this Mystery, the fulfillment of the most perfect grace that God bestowed upon her at her Immaculate Conception (cf. ibid.).

For this reason, many works of art depict her as a beautiful young woman physically rising from the earth toward the heavens at the end of her earthly life. These works are inspired by the scene described in the passage from the Book of Revelation that we heard in the First Reading: “A woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet” (Rev 12:1), signifying that in Mary’s heart, heaven and earth, time and eternity, meet.

On the surface this image seems to contrast with our experience of what the passing of the years does to us. As we age, our bodies do not become more agile, but heavier; our skin does not become fresher, but shows the signs of old age; our hair does not gain color and luster, but turns gray and then white.  So, what do we have in common with the beautiful young woman depicted on the altarpieces of our churches?

To understand this, we must unite the two signs we have mentioned: the incorrupt body of the Mother of God and her immaculate heart. For it is the purity of the soul that, in Mary — as in us — by the grace of God, illuminates and transfigures the whole person, leading us to the glory of Heaven.

The glorification of Mary, body and soul, teaches us that our true beauty does not lie in hiding the signs of aging, but in revealing the signs of love that never end,  and are even impressed on our flesh (cf. 1 Cor 13:8).

With this in mind, we are invited to re-examine many of the aesthetic standards, predominantly hedonistic and consumerist in nature, that the world imposes on us. These standards risk trapping us in burdensome expectations, causing us to waste precious energy on what does not really matter and does not last forever.  In everyday life, we encounter people whose faces are marked by the years and by suffering, yet who are capable of radiating serenity, kindness and peace around them; just as we may observe others who are perhaps outwardly attractive but hard and cold at heart. It is easy to see where true beauty lies and where, on the other hand, there is still a need for conversion, forgiveness and healing.

If we truly wish to discover and nurture the divine beauty that surrounds us and for which we were made, and to share it with those around us, we must learn to see it in the wrinkles of an elderly person as in the tender face of a child as well, in the maturity of an adult as in the liveliness of a young person as well, in work clothes and tools as well as in festive decorations. We must listen to the unique love stories that each of these realities tells us, recognizing in them small glimpses of heaven.

Love is humanity’s most beautiful adornment. Love transfigures, transforms, ennobles and lifts us up, making us light, free and close to God, even amid life’s ups and downs.

Reflecting on the mystery of the Assumption of the Virgin, Saint Paul VI said that to understand its meaning, “we must transform the terms we use in earthly and temporal language into superlative and absolute ones […], to imagine the eternal on a small scale” (Homily, 15 August 1969). Regarding the encounter between the infinite and the finite in the Mother of God, Pope Francis wrote: “Mary was able to turn a stable into a home for Jesus, with poor swaddling clothes and an abundance of love” (Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii Gaudium, 286).

The miracle that Mary, the maiden of Nazareth, experienced in her innocent heart, which led her to the glory of Heaven, is a meeting of extremes, as she herself testifies in the inspired words of the Magnificat, which we heard in the Gospel (cf. Lk 1:46–55).  In this canticle, through the humble expressions of her faith, the Mother of God speaks to us in simple terms of the magnificent mysteries she experienced, such as God becoming man in her to save humanity, and the Eternal One revealing himself within time to reopen the path to eternity for us.  At the same time, in her position as a “humble servant,” Saint Paul VI says that Mary shows us the “humble dimension” in which we too can encounter the Lord.

We need not look far to find the sublimity of the Mystery we celebrate. We can encounter it wherever there is true charity.  For example, in the eyes of a father and mother returning home after a long day, tired but happy to be with their children. In the faces of grandfathers and grandmothers who, despite the aches and pains of old age, are filled with unexpected energy as they care for their grandchildren. In the commitment of young people who strive to grow in morality and sincerity, ready even to go against the grain of “what everyone else does.” Finally, in the daily work of so many men and women who, with faith and dedication, help bring a little bit of Heaven to earth and the earth closer to Heaven.

Dear friends, the beautiful face of Our Lady of the Assumption is unique; it transcends any possible representation, and yet, at the same time, is familiar to us.  Even at this very moment, we can see her face in the people who are close to us, such as the brothers and sisters with whom, in faith, we share the daily offering of our lives. For this reason, the community of believers sees itself in the woman of the Book of Revelation, and the Second Vatican Council describes Mary as “the image and beginning of the Church, […] as a sign of sure hope and solace” (Dogmatic Constitution Lumen Gentium, 68). I n her holy human nature, by the grace of God, we also see our nature; therefore, we too are called to live the same grace-filled life that she lived and to share in her glory.

When speaking of Christ’s resurrection, Saint Augustine urged the Christians of his time to make it the compass and focal point of their lives. He said: “Christ rose from the dead so that He might never die again […]. Change course, follow the light! Begin to rise from the very place from which he rose” (Enarratio in Psalmos, 126:7).

Let us accept his invitation. Let us follow the light of the Risen Lord, changing course if necessary. Let us do so, especially today, by looking to Mary, whom God has crowned with glory in body and soul, and whom he has given to us as Mother, guide, companion on our journey, and protector on the path to Heaven.

15.08.26 m

Dear brothers and sisters,

The fifth chapter of the Conciliar Constitution Sacrosanctum Concilium (SC) is dedicated to the liturgical year, a theme we would like to look at today, to explain its value in the life of every believer.

First of all, it is important to note that this way of referring to the cycle of Christian feasts as the ‘liturgical year’ became widespread in ecclesiastical language thanks to the work of the Servant of God, Abbot Prosper Guéranger (1805–1875).

In the Encyclical Mediator Dei, Pope Pius XII states that it “is not a cold and lifeless representation of the events of the past, or a simple … record of a former age. [The liturgical year] is rather Christ Himself who is ever living in His Church. Here He continues that journey of immense mercy which He lovingly began in His mortal life … with the design of bringing men to know His mysteries and in a way live by them. These mysteries are ever present and active” (III Divinum Officium et Annus Liturgicus, II Cyclus Mysteriorum). The liturgical year should thus be understood as a constant renewal of the work of salvation which Christ accomplishes in history. As she journeys through this temporal cycle, the Church remains in contact with the Lord’s redemptive action, so that all the faithful may be filled with His grace (cf. SC, 102c).

The encounter with Jesus, who died and rose again for us, is the purpose that the Church always pursues, placing the celebration of the Paschal event at the centre of every moment.

Hence the Council Fathers considered “the foundation and kernel of the whole liturgical year” to be Sunday, “the original feast day” (cf. SC, 106). In various modern languages, its name indicates that it is the “dies Domini”, “the Lord’s day”. Even in those languages where the reference to the “day of the sun” (Sunday, Sonntag) has prevailed, the link with Christ can be discerned: Christ is the true “sun of righteousness” who enlightens every person!

Saint John Paul II, in the Apostolic Letter Dies Domini (31 May 1998) teaches that Sunday is the day of the Lord, the day of the Church, the day of man and, finally, the “day of days”. “Since Sunday is the weekly Easter, recalling and making present the day upon which Christ rose from the dead, it is also the day which reveals the meaning of time. … Springing from the Resurrection, it cuts through human time, the months, the years, the centuries, like a directional arrow which points them towards their target: Christ’s Second Coming. Sunday foreshadows the last day, the day of the Parousia” (75), when we shall all rise again.

To sanctify Sunday, it is fundamental to celebrate the Eucharist. Listening to the Word and partaking of the Body of Christ entail, according to the Council Fathers, the coming together in unum (cf. SC, 106), that is, the joyful gathering of the faithful. In this assembly, the Christian community makes visible its communion with the Lord and bears witness to its belonging to Christ and its fidelity to the Church. This assembly cannot be substituted by a solely virtual presence, nor can it be reduced to a merely passive gathering. The liturgical assembly is in fact fulfilled through the active participation of brothers and sisters, called together to “thank God who ‘has begotten them again, through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, unto a living hope’” (1 Pet 1:3) (ibid.).

In this regard, I urge everyone to seek the best possible conditions so that even those who are unable to take time off work on Sundays may take part in Holy Mass.

Dear friends, the liturgical year, punctuated by Sundays, has an interesting history, in which the faith and devotion of the Church are interwoven. Indeed, from as early as the second century AD, the celebration of the weekly Easter was joined by that of the annual Easter, the “most solemn festival” (SC, 102), extending over the most joyful period of fifty days, culminating in Pentecost, and prepared for by the season of Lent with its penitential character (cf. SC, 109). The development of the Christmas cycle, which took place later and was modelled on the Paschal cycle, has made it possible to relive the mysteries of the Incarnation of the Word of God, of His birth and of His manifestation to the world.  The Church then incorporated into the various times the veneration of the Blessed Virgin Mary, “joined by an inseparable bond to the saving work of her Son” (SC, 103), and “the memory of the martyrs and the other saints” who “sing God’s perfect praise in heaven and offer prayers for us” (SC, 104).

The liturgical year thus repeats, in sacramental form, the teaching of the history of salvation, guiding the faithful from the expectation of the Messiah to the fullness of the Paschal Mystery and to the anticipation of future glory. In it, the Church celebrates the salvific relevance of the mystery of Christ, enabling believers to participate in it ever more deeply. For this reason, the liturgical year constitutes the guiding principle and the essential framework for all pastoral action.

I greet all the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors taking part in today’s Audience, particularly the groups from Malta and Zimbabwe.  Upon you and your families, I invoke the joy and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ. God bless you all!

12.08.26

Dear brothers and sisters, happy Sunday!

Today’s Gospel speaks of Jesus approaching his disciples by walking on the waters of the Sea of Galilee in the midst of a storm (cf. Mt 14:22-33).

Following the miracle of the loaves and fish (cf. Mt 14:13-21), the Master urges his disciples to get into the boat and set out, while he withdraws to the mountain to pray by himself. Once away from the shore, the disciples find themselves at the mercy of the wind and struggle to make headway. After a successful experience in which they had been the protagonists of a miraculous sign, they now find themselves helpless and frightened in the face of the threat of the waves and the headwind.

As the night was drawing to a close, Jesus came towards them across the choppy waters, and, terrified, they mistook him for a ghost (v. 26). But he said to them, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid!” (v. 27). The Lord’s presence changes everything: Peter even manages to take a few steps across the waves towards him; but then losing his nerve, he begins to sink, and Jesus saves him. When the Master then steps into the boat, the storm subsides, and a profession of faith spontaneously springs out of the disciples’ hearts: “Truly, you are the Son of God!” (v. 33).

To realize this point, it was not enough for them simply to have witnessed a miracle, nor to have succeeded in the eyes of the people; instead, they had to experience their own weakness and, within it, recognize God’s presence. Only this experience could open their eyes and hearts to his closeness, finding peace even in the midst of the storm.

Sometime later, Jesus would say to them: “If you have faith and do not doubt… if you say to this mountain, ‘Be lifted up and thrown into the sea,’ it will be done” (Mt 21:21). This is similar to what they experienced on the lake: the peace of Christ, who had been on the mountain praying, reached them in the midst of the raging waters.

This miracle, then, teaches us something important. First, not to get carried away by success and never to be presumptuous. At the same time, not to despair, even in moments of darkness, when we feel powerless in the face of problems and, despite our efforts, it seems as though we are going backwards rather than forwards. Whatever the circumstances, Jesus does not abandon us, and if we humbly welcome him into the boat of our lives — through prayer, the sacraments and listening to his Word — in him, we will find peace, light and strength for our journey.

May Mary, who was proclaimed blessed for her faith (cf. Lk 1:45), help us to live in a trusting surrender to God.

Dear brothers and sisters,

I continue to follow with concern the tragic situation in Sudan, especially in the city of el-Obeid. In expressing my spiritual closeness to all the people of the nation, I renew my appeal to those in authority to guarantee humanitarian corridors for the civilian population. At the same time, I urge the international community to support efforts aimed at bringing about an immediate ceasefire. Let us pray that the Lord may sustain those who are suffering, convert the hearts of those who sow violence, and grant the long awaited peace.

Distressing reports continue to arrive of innocent people being killed and injured in Ukraine and Russia. These incidents are occurring one after another, indeed they are multiplying, resulting in ever-increasing numbers of civilian victims, including children. My thoughts are with the victims’ families, the wounded and all those who are suffering due to the ongoing conflict. In the face of so much anguish, I renew my heartfelt appeal for humanitarian law to be respected and for both sides to cease attacks on civilian targets. War only begets more war and causes immense suffering. It is time to put an end to this vicious cycle of violence and make room for diplomacy and dialogue, so as to open the way to peace.

And now I offer a warm welcome to all of you, Romans and pilgrims from different countries!

I greet in a special way the young people from the Saint Mary Magdalene Community of the Archdiocese of Milan, who have walked the Via Francigena from Siena to Rome; as well as the Scouts from Enna, who have held their camp in the Roman Hills; and the young people from Pernumia, in the Diocese of Padua.

The presence of so many youth groups, who chose to devote part of their summer vacation on formation activities and friendship, is a sign of hope, as was the gathering of the young Franciscans whom I had the joy of meeting last Thursday in Assisi.

To all of you, young men and women who are listening to me, I would like to remind you that in these days the liturgical calendar offers us some wonderful examples of holy men and women, whom I invite you to get to know them better. Yesterday was the great Saint Dominic, founder of the Order of Preachers; today, Saint Teresa Benedicta of the Cross, Edith Stein, the Carmelite who was killed at Auschwitz and is Co-Patroness of Europe; tomorrow, Saint Lawrence, deacon of the Church of Rome; and the day after tomorrow, Saint Clare of Assisi, who left a life of comfort to follow Jesus, poor and humble, in the footsteps of her fellow citizen, Saint Francis. Dear young people, allow yourselves to be inspired by these exemplary witnesses to the Gospel!

Thank you all for being here, and have a blessed Sunday!

09.08.26

Dear brothers and sisters,

Dear young people!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.

Where there is hatred, let me bring love.

Where there is offence, let me bring pardon.

Where there is discord, let me bring union.

Where there is error, let me bring truth.

Where there is doubt, let me bring faith.

Where there is despair, let me bring hope.

Where there is darkness, let me bring your light.

Where there is sadness, let me bring joy.

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

O Lord, grant that I may not so much seek

to be consoled as to console,

to be understood as to understand,

to be loved as to love,

for it is in giving that one receives,

it is in self-forgetting that one finds,

it is in forgiving that one is forgiven,

it is in dying that one awakens to eternal life.

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

06.08.26 m

Brothers and sisters, good morning and welcome!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

05.08.26

Dear brothers and sisters, happy Sunday!

When we listen to the Gospel, we frequently hear that Jesus performed signs, which are acts that reveal his special dedication to us and the salvation that he brings to the world. The Lord is presented as the One who gives meaning to our lives, freeing us from evil and sin.

By restoring sight to the blind and hearing to the deaf, Christ is doing more than merely performing miraculous deeds; he is proclaiming to all that the Kingdom of God is near. In this way, today’s Gospel (Mt 14:13–21) bears witness that Jesus not only restores the senses of those who lack them, but that he also fills our senses with good things. To the deaf man, who regains his hearing, the Lord proclaims the Good News to be heard; to the blind man, who regains his sight, he shows the magnificent work of redemption being accomplished for him. Similarly, Jesus gives food to those who are hungry. The account of the multiplication of the loaves shows us that the encounter with the Lord is a nourishing experience. In the desert, that is, when we are in need, Christ is the bread of life. With him, our needs are abundantly met: “All ate and were filled,” and there were “twelve baskets full” left over (v. 20). This number highlights that the Lord’s gift is universal, and that his providential care for us never fails.

Dear friends, Christ truly satisfies humanity’s hunger, our hunger for truth and life. His gesture teaches us that nothing is discarded when it is shared. Hoarding and waste, on the contrary, are two sides of the same evil: greed. This spiritual sickness numbs the senses, which become intoxicated with wealth, to the point of making people forget those who weep from hunger and cry out from thirst. And so, in the face of an opulence that reeks of decay, we find the outstretched hands of those who have no nourishment, the burned homes of those who have no peace.

Faced with the deserts of war and arrogance, let us consider with what kindness the Lord “looked up to heaven, and blessed,” “broke the loaves, and gave them” to his disciples, so that they might distribute them to the crowd (cf. v. 19). In this miracle of charity, we recognise the characteristic actions of Jesus, which find their culmination in the Last Supper, for it was then that the Son of God gave us his very life as our brother in humanity. As we savor the grace of the Eucharist, let us commit ourselves to bearing witness to its beauty in our daily actions, beginning with blessing meals at the table with family and friends. In Jesus’ company, even vacations can become a time of fraternal serenity, if we reach out to our neighbours in need.

Let us therefore ask the Virgin Mary, our loving Mother, to help us grow in charity, so that no one may lack their daily bread.

Dear brothers and sisters,

I am following with concern the alarming situation in Ceuta, praying to God that, through the intercession of Our Lady of Africa, solutions may be found to bring peace, stability and justice.

Let us continue to pray for peace, that wars may cease throughout the world and diplomatic solutions to conflicts may be found.  Let us remember all the victims of hostilities, especially the weakest and most defenceless: children, the elderly and the sick.  May the Lord comfort those who suffer and bless the work of those who bring aid and consolation.

In these days the “Pardon of Assisi” is celebrated.  Saint Francis obtained this Indulgence from Pope Honorius III in 1216, having been inspired — while praying at the Porziuncola — by a vision of Jesus and Mary surrounded by angels.  Let us thank the Lord for this great gift and treasure it, especially in this eighth centenary year of the Transitus of the Poor Man of Assisi, who died at the Porziuncola on 3 October 1226.

I greet all of you, Romans and pilgrims from various countries: in particular, the “Giovanissimi” from the parishes of Saccolongo and Creola (Padua), the young people from the parish of Saint John Bosco in Altamura, and the youth from the Pastoral Collaboration of Castelfranco Veneto, accompanied by their priests and leaders.

I wish everyone a happy Sunday!

02.08.26