News April 2025

Excerpt below, for the full transcript click on the picture link above

Homily of Cardinal Pietro Parolin

The risen Jesus appears to his disciples while they are in the Upper Room where they have fearfully shut themselves in, with the doors locked (Jn 20:19). Their state of mind is disturbed and their hearts are full of sadness, because the Master and Shepherd they had followed, leaving everything behind, has been nailed to the cross. They experienced terrible things and feel orphaned, alone, lost, threatened and helpless.

The opening image that the Gospel offers us on this Sunday can also well represent the state of mind of all of us, of the Church, and of the entire world. The shepherd whom the Lord gave to his people, Pope Francis, has ended his earthly life and has left us. The grief at his departure, the sense of sadness that assails us, the turmoil we feel in our hearts, the sense of bewilderment: we are experiencing all of this, like the apostles grieving over the death of Jesus.

Yet, the Gospel tells us that it is precisely in these moments of darkness that the Lord comes to us with the light of the resurrection, to illuminate our hearts. Pope Francis reminded us of this since his election and often repeated it to us, placing at the centre of his pontificate that joy of the Gospel which, as he wrote in Evangelii Gaudium, “fills the hearts and lives of all who encounter Jesus. Those who accept his offer of salvation are set free from sin, sorrow, inner emptiness and loneliness. With Christ joy is constantly born anew” 

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After the funeral in St. Peter's Square, the coffin of Pope Francis will be taken to St. Peter's Basilica and from there to the Basilica of St. Mary Major for entombment.

Homily of H.E. Cardinal Giovanni Battista Re

In this majestic Saint Peter’s Square, where Pope Francis celebrated the Eucharist so many times and presided over great gatherings over the past twelve years, we are gathered with sad hearts in prayer around his mortal remains. Yet, we are sustained by the certainty of faith, which assures us that human existence does not end in the tomb, but in the Father’s house, in a life of happiness that  will know no end.

On behalf of the College of Cardinals, I cordially thank all of you for your presence. With deep emotion, I extend respectful greetings and heartfelt thanks to the Heads of State, Heads of Government and Official Delegations who have come from many countries to express their affection, veneration and esteem for our late Holy Father.

The outpouring of affection that we have witnessed in recent days following his passing from this earth into eternity tells us how much the profound pontificate of Pope Francis touched minds and hearts.

The final image we have of him, which will remain etched in our memory, is that of last Sunday, Easter Sunday, when Pope Francis, despite his serious health problems, wanted to give us his blessing from the balcony of Saint Peter’s Basilica. He then came down to this Square to greet the large crowd gathered for the Easter Mass while riding in the open-top Popemobile.

With our prayers, we now entrust the soul of our beloved Pontiff to God, that he may grant him eternal happiness in the bright and glorious gaze of his immense love.

We are enlightened and guided by the passage of the Gospel, in which the very voice of Christ  resounded, asking the first of the Apostles:

“Peter, do you love me more than these?” Peter’s answer was prompt and sincere: “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you!” Jesus then entrusted him with the great mission: “Feed my sheep.” This will be the constant task of Peter and his successors, a service of love in the footsteps of Christ, our Master and Lord, who “came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45).

Despite his frailty and suffering towards the end, Pope Francis chose to follow this path of self-giving until the last day of his earthly life. He followed in the footsteps of his Lord, the Good Shepherd, who loved his sheep to the point of giving his life for them. And he did so with strength and serenity, close to his flock, the Church of God, mindful of the words of Jesus quoted by the  Apostle Paul: “It is more blessed to give than to receive” (Acts 20:35).

When Cardinal Bergoglio was elected by the Conclave on March 13, 2013, to succeed Pope Benedict XVI, he already had many years of experience in religious life in the Society of Jesus and, above all, was enriched by twenty-one years of pastoral ministry in the Archdiocese of Buenos Aires, first as Auxiliary, then as Coadjutor and, above all, as Archbishop.

The decision to take the name Francis immediately appeared to indicate the pastoral plan and style on which he wanted to base his pontificate, seeking inspiration from the spirit of Saint Francis of Assisi.

He maintained his temperament and form of pastoral leadership, and through his resolute personality, immediately made his mark on the governance of the Church. He established direct contact with individuals and peoples, eager to be close to everyone, with a marked attention to those in difficulty, giving himself without measure, especially to the marginalized, the least among us. He was a Pope among the people, with an open heart towards everyone. He was also a Pope attentive to the signs of the times and what the Holy Spirit was awakening in the Church.

With his characteristic vocabulary and language, rich in images and metaphors, he always sought to shed light on the problems of our time with the wisdom of the Gospel. He did so by offering a response guided by the light of faith and encouraging us to live as Christians amid the challenges and contradictions in recent years, which he loved to describe as an “epochal change.” He had great spontaneity and an informal way of addressing everyone, even those far from the Church.

Rich in human warmth and deeply sensitive to today’s challenges, Pope Francis truly shared the anxieties, sufferings and hopes of this time of globalization. He gave of himself by comforting and encouraging us with a message capable of reaching people’s hearts in a direct and immediate way.

His charisma of welcome and listening, combined with a manner of behaviour in keeping with today’s sensitivities, touched hearts and sought to reawaken moral and spiritual sensibilities. Evangelization was the guiding principle of his pontificate. With a clear missionary vision, he spread the joy of the Gospel, which was the title of his first Apostolic Exhortation, Evangelii Gaudium. It is a joy that fills the hearts of all those who entrust themselves to God with confidence and hope.

The guiding thread of his mission was also the conviction that the Church is a home for all, a home with its doors always open. He often used the image of the Church as a “field hospital” after a battle in which many were wounded; a Church determined to take care of the problems of people and the great anxieties that tear the contemporary world apart; a Church capable of bending down to every person, regardless of their beliefs or condition, and healing their wounds.

His gestures and exhortations in favor of refugees and displaced persons are countless. His insistence on working on behalf of the poor was constant.

It is significant that Pope Francis’ first journey was to Lampedusa, an island that symbolizes the tragedy of emigration, with thousands of people drowning at sea. In the same vein was his trip to Lesbos, together with the Ecumenical Patriarch and the Archbishop of Athens, as well as the celebration of a Mass on the border between Mexico and the United States during his journey to Mexico.

Of his 47 arduous Apostolic Journeys, the one to Iraq in 2021, defying every risk, will remain particularly memorable. That difficult Apostolic Journey was a balm on the open wounds of the Iraqi people, who had suffered so much from the inhuman actions of ISIS. It was also an important trip for interreligious dialogue, another significant dimension of his pastoral work. With his 2024 Apostolic Journey to four countries in Asia-Oceania, the Pope reached “the most peripheral periphery of the world.”

Pope Francis always placed the Gospel of mercy at the center, repeatedly emphasizing that God never tires of forgiving us. He always forgives, whatever the situation might be of the person who asks for forgiveness and returns to the right path.

He called for the Extraordinary Jubilee of Mercy in order to highlight that mercy is “the heart of the Gospel.”

Mercy and the joy of the Gospel are two key words for Pope Francis.

In contrast to what he called “the culture of waste,” he spoke of the culture of encounter and solidarity. The theme of fraternity ran through his entire pontificate with vibrant tones. In his Encyclical Letter Fratelli Tutti, he wanted to revive a worldwide aspiration to fraternity, because we are all children of the same Father who is in heaven. He often forcefully reminded us that we all belong to the same human family.

In 2019, during his trip to the United Arab Emirates, Pope Francis signed “A Document on Human Fraternity for World Peace and Living Together,” recalling the common fatherhood of God. Addressing men and women throughout the world, in his Encyclical Letter Laudato Si’ he drew attention to our duties and shared responsibility for our common home, stating, “No one is saved alone.”

Faced with the raging wars of recent years, with their inhuman horrors and countless deaths and destruction, Pope Francis incessantly raised his voice, imploring peace and calling for reason and honest negotiation to find possible solutions. War, he said, results in the death of people and the destruction of homes, hospitals and schools. War always leaves the world worse than it was before: It is always a painful and tragic defeat for everyone.

“Build bridges, not walls” was an exhortation he repeated many times, and his service of faith as Successor of the Apostle Peter always was linked to the service of humanity in all its dimensions. Spiritually united with all of Christianity, we are here in large numbers to pray for Pope Francis, that God may welcome him into the immensity of his love.

Pope Francis used to conclude his speeches and meetings by saying, “Do not forget to pray for me.”

Dear Pope Francis, we now ask you to pray for us. May you bless the Church, bless Rome, and bless the whole world from heaven as you did last Sunday from the balcony of this basilica in a final embrace with all the people of God, but also embrace humanity that seeks the truth with a sincere heart and holds high the torch of hope.

26.04.25

At 9:45 AM, Cardinal Kevin Farrell, Camerlengo of the Apostolic Chamber, announced the death of Pope Francis from the Casa Santa Marta with these words:

"Dearest brothers and sisters, with deep sorrow I must announce the death of our Holy Father Francis. At 7:35 this morning, the Bishop of Rome, Francis, returned to the house of the Father. His entire life was dedicated to the service of the Lord and of His Church. He taught us to live the values of the Gospel with fidelity, courage, and universal love, especially in favor of the poorest and most marginalized. With immense gratitude for his example as a true disciple of the Lord Jesus, we commend the soul of Pope Francis to the infinite merciful love of the One and Triune God."

Professor Andrea Arcangeli, Director of the Directorate of Health and Hygiene of Vatican City State has stated that Pope Francis died from  a stroke, followed by a coma and irreversible cardiocirculatory collapse.

21.04.25

Christ is risen, alleluia!

Dear brothers and sisters, Happy Easter!

Today at last, the singing of the “alleluia” is heard once more in the Church, passing from mouth to mouth, from heart to heart, and this makes the people of God throughout the world shed tears of joy.

From the empty tomb in Jerusalem, we hear unexpected good news: Jesus, who was crucified, “is not here, he has risen” (Lk 24:5). Jesus is not in the tomb, he is alive!

Love has triumphed over hatred, light over darkness and truth over falsehood. Forgiveness has triumphed over revenge. Evil has not disappeared from history; it will remain until the end, but it no longer has the upper hand; it no longer has power over those who accept the grace of this day.

Sisters and brothers, especially those of you experiencing pain and sorrow, your silent cry has been heard and your tears have been counted; not one of them has been lost! In the passion and death of Jesus, God has taken upon himself all the evil in this world and in his infinite mercy has defeated it. He has uprooted the diabolical pride that poisons the human heart and wreaks violence and corruption on every side. The Lamb of God is victorious! That is why, today, we can joyfully cry out: “Christ, my hope, has risen!” (Easter Sequence).

The resurrection of Jesus is indeed the basis of our hope. For in the light of this event, hope is no longer an illusion. Thanks to Christ — crucified and risen from the dead — hope does not disappoint! Spes non confundit! (cf. Rom 5:5). That hope is not an evasion, but a challenge; it does not delude, but empowers us.

All those who put their hope in God place their feeble hands in his strong and mighty hand; they let themselves be raised up and set out on a journey. Together with the risen Jesus, they become pilgrims of hope, witnesses of the victory of love and of the disarmed power of Life.

Christ is risen! These words capture the whole meaning of our existence, for we were not made for death but for life. Easter is the celebration of life! God created us for life and wants the human family to rise again! In his eyes, every life is precious! The life of a child in the mother’s womb, as well as the lives of the elderly and the sick, who in more and more countries are looked upon as people to be discarded.

What a great thirst for death, for killing, we witness each day in the many conflicts raging in different parts of our world! How much violence we see, often even within families, directed at women and children! How much contempt is stirred up at times towards the vulnerable, the marginalized, and migrants!

On this day, I would like all of us to hope anew and to revive our trust in others, including those who are different than ourselves, or who come from distant lands, bringing unfamiliar customs, ways of life and ideas! For all of us are children of God!

I would like us to renew our hope that peace is possible! From the Holy Sepulchre, the Church of the Resurrection, where this year Easter is being celebrated by Catholics and Orthodox on the same day, may the light of peace radiate throughout the Holy Land and the entire world. I express my closeness to the sufferings of Christians in Palestine and Israel, and to all the Israeli people and the Palestinian people. The growing climate of anti-Semitism throughout the world is worrisome. Yet at the same time, I think of the people of Gaza, and its Christian community in particular, where the terrible conflict continues to cause death and destruction and to create a dramatic and deplorable humanitarian situation. I appeal to the warring parties: call a ceasefire, release the hostages and come to the aid of a starving people that aspires to a future of peace!

Let us pray for the Christian communities in Lebanon and in Syria, presently experiencing a delicate transition in its history. They aspire to stability and to participation in the life of their respective nations. I urge the whole Church to keep the Christians of the beloved Middle East in its thoughts and prayers.

I also think in particular of the people of Yemen, who are experiencing one of the world’s most serious and prolonged humanitarian crises because of war, and I invite all to find solutions through a constructive dialogue.

May the risen Christ grant Ukraine, devastated by war, his Easter gift of peace, and encourage all parties involved to pursue efforts aimed at achieving a just and lasting peace.

On this festive day, let us remember the South Caucasus and pray that a final peace agreement between Armenia and Azerbaijan will soon be signed and implemented, and lead to long-awaited reconciliation in the region.

May the light of Easter inspire efforts to promote harmony in the western Balkans and sustain political leaders in their efforts to allay tensions and crises, and, together with their partner countries in the region, to reject dangerous and destabilizing actions.

May the risen Christ, our hope, grant peace and consolation to the African peoples who are victims of violence and conflict, especially in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, in Sudan and South Sudan. May he sustain those suffering from the tensions in the Sahel, the Horn of Africa and the Great Lakes region, as well as those Christians who in many places are not able freely to profess their faith.

There can be no peace without freedom of religion, freedom of thought, freedom of expression and respect for the views of others.

Nor is peace possible without true disarmament! The requirement that every people provide for its own defence must not turn into a race to rearmament. The light of Easter impels us to break down the barriers that create division and are fraught with grave political and economic consequences. It impels us to care for one another, to increase our mutual solidarity, and to work for the integral development of each human person.

During this time, let us not fail to assist the people of Myanmar, plagued by long years of armed conflict, who, with courage and patience, are dealing with the aftermath of the devastating earthquake in Sagaing, which caused the death of thousands and great suffering for the many survivors, including orphans and the elderly. We pray for the victims and their loved ones, and we heartily thank all the generous volunteers carrying out the relief operations. The announcement of a ceasefire by various actors in the country is a sign of hope for the whole of Myanmar.

I appeal to all those in positions of political responsibility in our world not to yield to the logic of fear which only leads to isolation from others, but rather to use the resources available to help the needy, to fight hunger and to encourage initiatives that promote development. These are the “weapons” of peace: weapons that build the future, instead of sowing seeds of death!

May the principle of humanity never fail to be the hallmark of our daily actions. In the face of the cruelty of conflicts that involve defenceless civilians and attack schools, hospitals and humanitarian workers, we cannot allow ourselves to forget that it is not targets that are struck, but persons, each possessed of a soul and human dignity.

In this Jubilee year, may Easter also be a fitting occasion for the liberation of prisoners of war and political prisoners!

Dear brothers and sisters,

In the Lord’s Paschal Mystery, death and life contended in a stupendous struggle, but the Lord now lives forever (cf. Easter Sequence). He fills us with the certainty that we too are called to share in the life that knows no end, when the clash of arms and the rumble of death will be heard no more. Let us entrust ourselves to him, for he alone can make all things new (cf. Rev. 21:5)!

Happy Easter to everyone!

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Homily of Pope Francis read by Cardinal Angelo Comastri 

Mary Magdalene, seeing that the stone of the tomb had been rolled away, ran to tell Peter and John. After receiving the shocking news, the two disciples also went out and — as the Gospel says — “the two were running together” (Jn 20:4). The main figures of the Easter narratives all ran! On the one hand, “running” could express the concern that the Lord’s body had been taken away; but, on the other hand, the haste of Mary Magdalene, Peter and John expresses the desire, the yearning of the heart, the inner attitude of those who set out to search for Jesus. He, in fact, has risen from the dead and therefore is no longer in the tomb. We must look for him elsewhere.

This is the message of Easter: we must look for him elsewhere. Christ is risen, he is alive! He is no longer a prisoner of death, he is no longer wrapped in the shroud, and therefore we cannot confine him to a fairy tale, we cannot make him a hero of the ancient world, or think of him as a statue in a museum! On the contrary, we must look for him and this is why we cannot remain stationary.  We must take action, set out to look for him: look for him in life, look for him in the faces of our brothers and sisters, look for him in everyday business, look for him everywhere except in the tomb.

We must look for him without ceasing. Because if he has risen from the dead, then he is present everywhere, he dwells among us, he hides himself and reveals himself even today in the sisters and brothers we meet along the way, in the most ordinary and unpredictable situations of our lives. He is alive and is with us always, shedding the tears of those who suffer and adding to the beauty of life through the small acts of love carried out by each of us.

For this reason, our Easter faith, which opens us to the encounter with the risen Lord and prepares us to welcome him into our lives, is anything but a complacent settling into some sort of “religious reassurance.” On the contrary, Easter spurs us to action, to run like Mary Magdalene and the disciples; it invites us to have eyes that can “see beyond,” to perceive Jesus, the one who lives, as the God who reveals himself and makes himself present even today, who speaks to us, goes before us, surprises us. Like Mary Magdalene, every day we can experience losing the Lord, but every day we can also run to look for him again, with the certainty that he will allow himself to be found and will fill us with the light of his resurrection.

Brothers and sisters, this is the greatest hope of our life: we can live this poor, fragile and wounded existence clinging to Christ, because he has conquered death, he conquers our darkness and he will conquer the shadows of the world, to make us live with him in joy, forever. This is the goal towards which we press on, as the Apostle Paul says, forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead (cf. Phil 3:12-14). Like Mary Magdalene, Peter and John, we hasten to meet Christ.

The Jubilee invites us to renew the gift of hope within us, to surrender our sufferings and our concerns to hope, to share it with those whom we meet along our journey and to entrust to hope the future of our lives and the destiny of the human family. And so we cannot settle for the fleeting things of this world or give in to sadness; we must run, filled with joy. Let us run towards Jesus, let us rediscover the inestimable grace of being his friends. Let us allow his Word of life and truth to shine in our life. As the great theologian Henri de Lubac said, “It should be enough to understand this: Christianity is Christ. No, truly, there is nothing else but this. In Christ we have everything” (Les responsabilités doctrinales des catholiques dans le monde d'aujourd'hui, Paris 2010, 276).

And this “everything” that is the risen Christ opens our life to hope. He is alive, he still wants to renew our life today. To him, conqueror of sin and death, we want to say:

“Lord, on this feast day we ask you for this gift: that we too may be made new, so as to experience this eternal newness. Cleanse us, O God, from the sad dust of habit, tiredness and indifference; give us the joy of waking every morning with wonder, with eyes ready to see the new colours of this morning, unique and unlike any other. […] Everything is new, Lord, and nothing is the same, nothing is old” (A. Zarri, Quasi una preghiera).

Sisters, brothers, in the wonder of the Easter faith, carrying in our hearts every expectation of peace and liberation, we can say: with You, O Lord, everything is new. With you, everything begins again.

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Homily of Pope Francis read by Cardinal Giovanni Battista Re

It is night, as the Paschal candle slowly advances towards the altar.  It is night, when the chant of the Easter Proclamation invites heartfelt rejoicing, “Be glad, let earth be glad, as glory floods her, ablaze with light from her eternal King… knowing an end to gloom and darkness” (Exsultet).  It is in the last hours of the night that the events take place that are recounted in the Gospel we have just heard (cf. Lk 24:1-12).  The divine light of the Resurrection begins to shine and the Lord’s Passover from death to life takes place as the sun is about to rise.  The first light of dawn reveals that the great stone placed before Jesus’ tomb has been rolled away, as a few women, dressed in mourning, make their way to the tomb.  The bewilderment and fear of the disciples is still enshrouded by darkness.  Everything takes place in the night.

The Easter Vigil thus reminds us that the light of the Resurrection illumines our path one step at a time; quietly, it breaks through the darkness of history and shines in our hearts, calling for the response of a humble faith, devoid of all triumphalism.  The Lord’s passage from death to life is not a spectacular event by which God shows his power and compels us to believe in him.  For Jesus, it was not the end of an easy journey that bypassed Calvary.  Nor should we experience it as such, casually and unthinkingly.  On the contrary, the Resurrection is like little seeds of light that slowly and silently come to take root in our hearts, at times still prey to darkness and unbelief.

This “style” of God sets us free from a disembodied piety that wrongly imagines that the Lord’s Resurrection resolves everything as if by magic.  Far from it: we cannot celebrate Easter without continuing to deal with the nights that dwell in our hearts and the shadows of death that so often loom over our world.  Christ indeed conquered sin and destroyed death, yet in our earthly history the power of his Resurrection is still being brought to fulfilment.  And that fulfilment, like a small seed of light, has been entrusted to us, to protect it and to make it grow.

Brothers and sisters, during this Jubilee Year in particular, we should feel strongly within us the summons to let the hope of Easter blossom in our lives and in the world!

When the thought of death lies heavy on our hearts, when we see the dark shadows of evil advancing in our world, when we feel the wounds of selfishness or violence festering in our flesh and in our society, let us not lose heart, but return to the message of this night.  The light quietly shines forth, even though we are in darkness; the promise of new life and a world finally set free awaits us; and a new beginning, however impossible it might seem, can take us by surprise, for Christ has triumphed over death.

This message fills our hearts with renewed hope.  For in the risen Jesus we have the certainty that our personal history and that of our human family, albeit still immersed in a dark night where lights seem distant and dim, are nonetheless in God’s hands.  In his great love, he will not let us falter, or allow evil to have the last word.  At the same time, this hope, already fulfilled in Christ, remains for us a goal to be attained.  Yet it has been entrusted to us so that we can bear credible witness to it, so that the Kingdom of God may find its way into the hearts of the women and men of our time.

As Saint Augustine reminds us, “The resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ is new life for those who believe in him; this mystery of his passion and resurrection you ought to know well and to imitate in your lives” (Sermon 231, 2).  We are to reflect Easter in our lives and become messengers of hope, builders of hope, even as so many winds of death still buffet us.

We can do this by our words, by our small daily acts, by decisions inspired by the Gospel.  Our whole life can be a presence of hope.  We want to be that presence for those who lack faith in the Lord, for those who have lost their way, for those who have given up or are weighed down by life; for those who are alone or overwhelmed by their sufferings; for all the poor and oppressed in our world; for the many women who are humiliated and killed; for the unborn and for children who are mistreated; and for the victims of war.  To each and all of them, let us bring the hope of Easter!

I like to think of a thirteenth-century mystic, Hadewijch of Antwerp, who, inspired by the Song of Songs, describes her suffering over the absence of the beloved and invokes the return of love so that — as she says — “there may be a turning point to my darkness” (Poesie, Visioni, Lettere, Genoa 2000, 23).

The risen Christ is the definitive turning point in human history.  He is the hope that does not fade.  He is the love that accompanies us and sustains us.  He is the future of history, the ultimate destination towards which we walk, to be welcomed into that new life in which the Lord himself will wipe away all our tears and “death, mourning and crying and pain will be no more” (Rev 21:4).  And it falls to us to proclaim this Easter hope, this “turning point” where darkness becomes light.

Sisters, brothers, the Easter season is a time of hope.  “There still is fear, there still is a painful awareness of sinfulness, but there also is light breaking through...  Easter brings the good news that although things seem to get worse in the world, the Evil One has already been overcome.  Easter allows us to affirm that even though God seems very distant and although we remain preoccupied with many little things, our Lord walks with us on the road...  Thus there are many rays of hope casting their light on our way through life” (H. Nouwen, A Cry for Mercy, Prayers from the Genesee).

Let us make room for the light of the Risen Lord!  And we will become builders of hope for the world.

19.04.25 v

Excerpt below, for the full transcript click on the picture link above

Meditations and Prayers written by Pope Francis

The road to Calvary passes through the streets we tread each day. Usually, Lord, we are walking in the other direction, and so it may just happen that we encounter you, catch sight of your face, meet your gaze. We are going about our way as usual, and you are coming towards us. Your eyes look into our hearts.  Then we find it hard to continue on, as if nothing happened. We can turn around, contemplate you and follow you. We can walk in your footsteps and come to realize that it was good for us to change direction.

18.04.25 wc

I have always liked coming to prison on Holy Thursday to do the washing of the feet like Jesus. 

This year, I cannot do it, but I want to be close to you. I pray for you and your families.

17.04.25 pv

Homily of Pope Francis read by Cardinal Domenico Calcagno

Dear bishops and priests,

Dear brothers and sisters!

“The Alpha and the Omega, who is and who was and who is to come, the Almighty” (Rev 1:8), is Jesus himself. That same Jesus whom Luke presents to us in the synagogue of Nazareth, among those who have known him since he was a child, and are now amazed at him. Revelation — “apocalypse” — takes place within the limits of time and space: it has flesh as its fulcrum, which sustains our hope. The flesh of Jesus is our flesh. The final book of the Bible speaks of this hope. It does so in an extraordinary way, by dispelling all apocalyptic fears in the light of a crucified love.  In Jesus, the book of history is opened, and can be read.

We priests have our own history. On Holy Thursday, when we renew the promises made at our ordination, we confess that we can read that history only in the light of Jesus of Nazareth. Jesus, “who loves us and freed us from our sins by his blood” (Rev 1:5) opens the scroll of our own lives and teaches us to find the passages that reveal its meaning and mission. If only we let him teach us, our ministry becomes one of hope, because in each of our stories God opens a jubilee: a time and an oasis of grace. Let us ask: Am I learning how to read the story of my life? Or am I afraid to do so?

An entire people finds refreshment when the jubilee begins in our lives: not only once every twenty-five years — we hope! — but in the daily closeness of priests to their people, where the prophecies of justice and peace are fulfilled. Jesus has “made us to be a kingdom, priests serving his God and Father” (Rev 1:6): such is the people of God. This kingdom of priests is not the same as a clergy. The “we” that Jesus shapes is a people whose boundaries we cannot see, where walls and barriers come tumbling down. The one who tells us, “See, I am making all things new” (Rev 21:5), has torn the veil of the Temple and has prepared for humanity a garden city, the new Jerusalem whose gates are always open (cf. Rev 21:25).  That is how Jesus “reads”, and teaches us to read, the ministerial priesthood: as pure service to the priestly people, who will soon inhabit a city that has no need of a temple.

For us priests, the Jubilee year thus represents a specific summons to a new beginning on our path of conversion. As pilgrims of hope, we are called to leave clericalism behind and to become heralds of hope. Naturally, if Jesus is the Alpha and Omega of our lives, we too may encounter the dissent he experienced in Nazareth. The shepherd who loves his people does not seek consensus and approval at any cost. Yet the fidelity of love changes hearts. The poor are the first to see this, but slowly it unsettles and attracts others too. “Look!  Every eye will see him, even those who pierced him; and on his account, all the tribes of the earth will wail. So it is to be. Amen” (Rev 1:7).

We are gathered here, dear brothers, to make our own and to repeat that “Amen.”  It is the confession of faith of the entire people of God: “Yes, it is so, solid as a rock!” The passion, death and resurrection of Jesus, which we are about to relive, are the soil that solidly sustains the Church and, within her, our priestly ministry. And what kind of soil is this?  What kind of humus allows us not only to survive, but also to flourish?  To understand this, we need to return to Nazareth, as Saint Charles de Foucauld so astutely realized.

“When he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, he went to the synagogue on the sabbath day, as was his custom. He stood up to read” (Lk 4:16). Here we see at least two “customs” of Jesus: that of frequenting the synagogue and that of reading. Our lives are sustained by good habits. They may become routine, but they reveal where our heart is.  Jesus’ heart was in love with the word of God: at the age of twelve that was already clear, and now, as an adult, the Scriptures are his home. That is the same soil, the vital humus, that we find, once we become his disciples. “And the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place” (Lk 4:17). Jesus knew what he was looking for. The synagogue ritual allowed for this: after the reading of the Torah, each rabbi could read prophetic words to apply the message to the lives of those who were listening.  Yet there is more here: Jesus chose to read the page of his own life. That is what Luke wants to tell us: from among the many prophecies, Jesus chooses the one he is to fulfil.

Dear priests, each of us has a word to fulfil. Each of us has a long-standing relationship with the word of God. We put it at the service of others only when the Bible remains our first home. Within it, each of us has some pages that touch us more than others. That is beautiful and important! We also help others to find the pages that touch their lives: such as newlyweds, when they choose the readings for their wedding; or those who are grieving and seek passages to entrust a dear one who has died to the mercy of God and the prayers of the community. There is a page for a vocation, normally at the beginning of each of our journeys. Whenever we read this page, God still calls us, if only we cherish it and do not allow our love to grow cold.

For each of us, the page that Jesus chose has a particular meaning. We follow him, and for that reason, his mission has to do directly with us. “He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written:

‘The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,

because he has anointed me

to bring good news to the poor.

He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives

and recovery of sight to the blind,

to let the oppressed go free,

to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour.’

And he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down” (Lk 4:17-20).

The eyes of all are now fixed on Jesus. He has just proclaimed a jubilee. He did so, not as someone speaking about others but about himself. He said: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me”, as someone who knows the Spirit of which he speaks. Indeed, he adds: “Today this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” This is divine: the word becomes reality. The facts now speak; the words are fulfilled. Something new and powerful is happening. “See, I am making all things new.” There is no grace, there is no Messiah, if the promises remain promises, if they do not become reality here below. Everything is now changed.

We now invoke this same Spirit upon our priesthood. We have received that Spirit, the Spirit of Jesus, and he continues to be the silent protagonist of our service. The people feel his breath when our words become a reality in our lives. The poor before all others, children, adolescents, women, but also any who have been hurt in their experience of the Church: all these have a “feel” for the presence of the Holy Spirit; they can distinguish him from worldly spirits, they recognize him in the convergence of what we say and what we do. We can become a prophecy fulfilled, and this is something beautiful! The sacred chrism that we consecrate today seals this mystery of transformation at work in the different stages of Christian life.  Take care, then, never to grow discouraged, for it is all God’s work. So believe!  Believe that God did not make a mistake with me! God never makes mistakes. Let us always remember the words spoken at our ordination: “May God who has begun the good work in you bring it to fulfilment.” He does.

It is God’s work, not ours: to bring good news to the poor, freedom to prisoners, sight to the blind and freedom to the oppressed. If Jesus once found this passage in the scroll, today he continues to read it in the life story of each one of us. First and foremost, because until our last day, he continues to tell us good news, to free us from prisons, to open our eyes and to lift the burdens from our shoulders. Yet also, because by calling us to share in his mission and sacramentally giving us a share in his life, he sets others free through us, often without our even knowing it. Our priesthood becomes a jubilee ministry, like his, accomplished without fanfare but through a devotion that is unobtrusive, yet radical and gratuitous. It is that of the Kingdom of God, the one recounted in the parables, effective and discreet like yeast, silent like seed. How often have the little ones recognized it in us? And are we able to say thank you?

Only God knows how abundant the harvest will be. We labourers experience the toil and the joy of the harvest. We live after Christ, in the messianic age. Despair has no place, but rather the restitution and forgiveness of debts; the redistribution of responsibilities and resources. This is what God’s people expect. They want to share in this and, by virtue of Baptism, they are a great priestly people. The oils that we consecrate in this solemn celebration are for their consolation and messianic joy.

The field is the world. Our common home, so wounded, and human fraternity, so often denied yet indelible, call us to take sides. God’s harvest is for everyone: a flourishing field that produces a hundred times more than was sown. May the joy of the Kingdom, which repays all our efforts, spur us on in our mission. Every farmer knows seasons when nothing seems to grow. There are also times like these in our lives. It is God who gives the growth and who anoints his servants with the oil of gladness.

Dear members of the faithful, people of hope, pray today for the joy of priests. May all of you experience the liberation promised by the Scriptures and nourished by the sacraments.  Many fears can dwell within us and terrible injustices surround us, but a new world has already been born. God so loved the world that he gave us his Son, Jesus. He pours balm upon our wounds and wipes away our tears. “Look! He is coming with the clouds” (Rev 1:7).  His is the Kingdom and the glory forever and ever. Amen.

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Dear brothers and sisters, good morning!

As we celebrate Palm Sunday today, we have listened to the account of the Lord's Passion according to Luke (cf. Lk 22:14-23:56) in the Gospel. We have heard Jesus addressing the Father several times: " “Father, if you are willing, take this cup away from me; still, not my will but yours be done.” (22:42); Father, forgive them, they know not what they do ‘ (23:34); Father, into your hands I commend my spirit" (23:46). We have seen him walk towards the cross defenceless and humiliated, with the feelings and the heart of a child clinging to his father's neck, fragile in the flesh, but strong in trusting abandonment, until he fell asleep, in death, in the Father’s arms.

These are feelings that the liturgy calls us to contemplate and make our own. We all have sorrows, physical or moral, and faith helps us not to give in to despair, not to close ourselves off in bitterness, but to face them, feeling enveloped, like Jesus, by the providential and merciful embrace of the Father.

Sisters and brothers, I thank you very much for your prayers. At this time of physical weakness, they help me to feel God's closeness, compassion and tenderness even more. I too am praying for you, and I ask you to entrust all those who suffer to the Lord together with me, especially those affected by war, poverty or natural disasters. In particular, may God receive in His peace the victims of the collapse of a building in Santo Domingo, and comfort their families.

The 15th of April will mark the second sad anniversary of the beginning of the conflict in Sudan, in which thousands have been killed and millions of families have been forced to flee their homes. The suffering of children, women and vulnerable people cries out to heaven and begs us to act. I renew my appeal to the parties involved, that they may end the violence and embark on paths of dialogue, and to the international community, so that the help needed may be provided to the populations.

And let us also remember Lebanon, where the tragic civil war began fifty years ago: with God's help, may it live in peace and prosperity.

May peace come at last to martyred Ukraine, Palestine, Israel, the Democratic Republic of Congo, to Myanmar, to South Sudan. May Mary, Mother of Sorrows, obtain this grace for us and help us to live this Holy Week with faith.

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Homily of Pope Francis read by H.E. Cardinal Leonardo Sandri

“Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord” (Lk 19:38). So the crowd greeted Jesus as he entered Jerusalem. The Messiah entered through the gate of the holy city, thrown open to welcome the one who, a few days later, would leave through the same gate, this time cursed and condemned, bearing the cross.

Today we too have followed Jesus, first in a festive procession and then along a path of pain and sorrow, as we enter upon this Holy Week of preparation for the commemoration of the Lord’s passion, death and resurrection.

As we look at the faces of the soldiers and the tears of the women in the crowd, our attention is drawn to an unknown person whose name suddenly appears in the Gospel: Simon of Cyrene. He was the man seized by the soldiers who then “laid the cross on him, and made him carry it behind Jesus” (Lk 23:26). At that moment, he was coming in from the countryside. He happened to be passing by when he unexpectedly found himself caught up in a drama that overwhelmed him, like the heavy wood that was placed on his shoulders.

As we make our own way towards Calvary, let us reflect for a moment on Simon’s actions, try to look into his heart, and follow in his footsteps at the side of Jesus.

First of all, Simon’s actions were ambivalent. On the one hand, he was forced to carry the cross. He did not help Jesus out of conviction, but out of coercion. On the other hand, he then becomes personally involved in the Lord’s passion. Jesus’ cross becomes Simon’s cross. He was not the Simon, called Peter, who had promised to follow the Master at all times. That Simon disappeared on the night of betrayal, even after he had exclaimed: “Lord, I am ready to go with you to prison and to death” (Lk 22:33). The one who now follows Jesus is not that disciple, but this man from Cyrene. Yet the Master had clearly taught: “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me” (Lk 9:23). Simon of Galilee spoke but did not act. Simon of Cyrene acts but does not speak. Between him and Jesus, there is no dialogue; not a single word is spoken. Between him and Jesus, there is only the wood of the cross.

If we would know whether Simon of Cyrene helped or hated Jesus, in whose suffering he now had to share, whether he “took up” the Lord’s cross or simply carried it, we must look into his heart. While God’s heart is ever open, pierced by a pain that reveals his mercy, the human heart remains closed. We do not know what went on in Simon’s heart. Let us imagine ourselves in his place: would we feel anger or pity, compassion or annoyance? When we think of what Simon did for Jesus, we should also think of what Jesus did for Simon — what he did for me, for you, for each of us: he redeemed the world. The cross of wood that Simon of Cyrene bore is the cross of Christ, who himself bore the sins of all humanity. He bore them for love of us, in obedience to the Father (cf. Lk 22:42); he suffered with us and for us. In this unexpected and astonishing way, Simon of Cyrene becomes part of the history of salvation, in which no one is a stranger, no one a foreigner.

Let us follow, then, in Simon’s footsteps, for he teaches us that Jesus comes to meet everyone, in every situation. When we see the great crowds of men and women whom hatred and violence are compelling to walk the road to Calvary, let us remember that God has made this road a place of redemption, for he walked it himself, giving his life for us. How many Simons of Cyrene are there in our own day, bearing the cross of Christ on their shoulders! Can we recognize them? Can we see the Lord in their faces, marred by the burden of war and deprivation? Faced with the appalling injustice of evil, we never carry the cross of Christ in vain; on the contrary, it is the most tangible way for us to share in his redemptive love.

Jesus’ passion becomes compassion whenever we hold out our hand to those who feel they cannot go on, when we lift up those who have fallen, when we embrace those who are discouraged. Brothers and sisters, in order to experience this great miracle of mercy, let us decide how we are meant to carry our own cross during this Holy Week: if not on our shoulders, in our hearts. And not only our cross, but also the cross of those who suffer all around us; perhaps even the cross of some unknown person whom chance — but is it really chance? — has placed on our way. Let us prepare for the Lord’s paschal mystery by becoming each of us, for one another, a Simon of Cyrene.

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Dear brothers and sisters,

The Gospel of this fifth Sunday of Lent presents to us the episode of the woman caught in adultery (Jn 8:1-11). While the scribes and the pharisees want to stone her, Jesus restores the lost beauty to this woman. She has fallen in the dust; Jesus passes his finger on this dust and writes a new story for her. It is the “finger of God”, who saves His children (cf. Ex 8:15) and frees them from evil (cf. Lk 11:20).

Dear friends, as during my hospitalization, even now in my convalescence I feel the “finger of God” and experience His caring touch. On the day of the Jubilee of the sick and the world of healthcare, I ask the Lord that this touch of His love may reach those who suffer and encourage those who care for them. And I pray for doctors, nurses and health workers, who are not always helped to work in adequate conditions and are sometimes even victims of aggression. Their mission is not easy and must be supported and respected. I hope that the necessary resources will be invested in treatment and research, so that health systems are inclusive and attentive to the most fragile and the poorest.

I thank the inmates of Rebibbia women’s prison for the note they have sent to me. I pray for them and for their families.

On International Day of Sport for Development and Peace, I hope that sport may be a sign of hope for so many people who need peace and social inclusion, and I thank the sporting associations that educate in fraternity in practical way.

Let us continue to pray for peace: in tormented Ukraine, stricken by attacks that are claiming many civilian victims, including a lot of children. And the same is happening in Gaza, where people are reduced to living in unimaginable conditions, without shelter, without food, without clean water. May the weapons be silenced and dialogue resumed; may all the hostages be freed and aid brought to the population. Let us pray for peace throughout the Middle East; in Sudan and South Sudan; in the Democratic Republic of the Congo; in Myanmar, hard hit by the earthquake; and in Haiti, where violence rages, and two religious sisters were killed a few days ago.

May the Virgin Mary protect us and intercede for us.

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Homily of Pope Francis read by H.E. Archbishop Rino Fisichella

“I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?” (Is 43:19). God addressed these words to the people of Israel through the prophet Isaiah while they were in exile in Babylon. For the Israelites, it was a difficult time: it seemed that all was lost. Jerusalem had been conquered and destroyed by the soldiers of King Nebuchadnezzar II, and the people, now deported, had nothing left. The future was bleak and every hope seemed thwarted. Everything could have tempted the people in exile to give up, to grow bitter and to feel that they were no longer blessed by God.

Yet, in this very situation, the Lord invited them to embrace something new that was unfolding. Not something that would happen in the future, but something already happening, something springing up like a shoot. What is it? What could possibly come into being, or even have already sprouted, in such a desolate and forlorn landscape?

A new people was being born. A people that, having experienced the failure of past false securities, now discovered what is essential: to remain united and walk together in the light of the Lord (cf. Is 2:5). A people that would be able to rebuild Jerusalem because, far from the Holy City where the temple lay in ruins and where solemn liturgies could no longer be celebrated, it has learned to encounter the Lord in another way: through conversion of heart (cf. Jer 4:4), through the practice of the law and justice, through caring for the poor and needy (cf. Jer 22:3), through works of mercy.

It is the same message that we find, in a different way, in today’s Gospel (cf. Jn 8:1-11). Here too there is a person — a woman— whose life has been destroyed, not by physical exile, but by moral condemnation.  She is a sinner, and thus far from the law and condemned to ostracism and death. There seems to be no hope for her either. Yet God does not abandon her.  In fact, at the very moment when her accusers are ready to stone her — precisely then — Jesus enters her life, defends her and saves her from their violence, thus giving her the opportunity to begin a new life. “Go your way,” he says to her, “you are free,” “you are saved” (cf. v. 11).

Through these dramatic and moving stories, the liturgy invites us today, amid our Lenten journey, to renew our trust in God, who is ever near to us and ready to save us. No situation of exile, no violence, no sin, no fact of life can prevent him from standing at our door and knocking, ready to enter as soon as we open to him (cf. Rev 3:20). Indeed, it is precisely when the trials become more difficult that his grace and love embrace us all the more in order to raise us up.

Sisters and brothers, we read these texts as we celebrate the Jubilee of the Sick and Health Care Workers. Illness is certainly one of the harshest and most difficult of life’s trials, when we experience in our own flesh our common human frailty. It can make us feel like the people in exile, or like the woman in the Gospel: deprived of hope for the future. Yet that is not the case. Even in these times, God does not leave us alone, and if we surrender our lives to him, precisely when our strength fails, we will be able to experience the consolation of his presence. By becoming man, he wanted to share our weakness in everything (cf. Phil 2:6-8). He knows what it is to suffer (cf. Is 53:3).  Therefore, we can turn to him and entrust our pain to him, certain that we will encounter compassion, closeness and tenderness.

But not only that. In his faithful love, the Lord invites us in turn to become “angels” for one another, messengers of his presence, to the point where the sickbed can become a “holy place” of salvation and redemption, both for the sick and for those who care for them.

Dear doctors, nurses and health care workers, in caring for your patients, especially the most vulnerable among them, the Lord constantly affords you an opportunity to renew your lives through gratitude, mercy, and hope (cf. Spes Non Confundit, 11). He calls you to realize with humility that nothing in life is to be taken for granted and that everything is a gift from God; to enrich your lives with the sense of humanity we experience when, beyond appearances, only the things that matter remain: the small and great signs of love. Allow the presence of the sick to enter your lives as a gift, to heal your hearts, to purify them of all that is not charity, and to warm them with the ardent and gentle fire of compassion.

I have much in common with you at this time of my life, dear brothers and sisters who are sick: the experience of illness, of weakness, of having to depend on others in so many things, and of needing their support. This is not always easy, but it is a school in which we learn each day to love and to let ourselves be loved, without being demanding or pushing back, without regrets and without despair, but rather with gratitude to God and to our brothers and sisters for the kindness we receive, looking towards the future with acceptance and trust. The hospital room and the sickbed can also be places where we hear the voice of the Lord speak to us: “Behold, I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?” (Is 43:19). In this way, we renew and strengthen our faith.

Benedict XVI — who gave us a beautiful testimony of serenity in the time of his illness — wrote that, “the true measure of humanity is essentially determined in relationship to suffering” and that “a society unable to accept its suffering members... is a cruel and inhuman society” (Spe Salvi, 38). It is true: facing suffering together makes us more human, and the ability to share the pain of others is an important step forward in any journey of holiness.

Dear friends, let us not exclude from our lives those who are frail, as at times, sadly, a certain mentality does today. Let us not banish suffering from our surroundings. On the contrary, let us turn it into an opportunity to grow together and to cultivate hope, thanks to the love that God first poured into our hearts (cf. Rom 5:5), the love that, above all things, remains forever (cf. 1 Cor 13:8-10, 13).

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