News December 2025

Dear brothers and sisters, good morning and welcome!

We are gathering for this moment of reflection on the last day of the calendar year, close to the end of the Jubilee and at the heart of Christmas time.

The past year has certainly been marked by important events: some of them joyful, such as the pilgrimage of so many of the faithful on the occasion of the Holy Year; others painful, such as the passing of the late Pope Francis, and the scenarios of war that continue to convulse the planet. At its end, the Church invites us to place everything before the Lord, entrusting ourselves to his Providence, and asking him to renew, in us and around us, in the coming days, the wonders of his grace and mercy.

It is in this dynamic that the tradition of the solemn singing of the Te Deum, with which we will thank the Lord this evening for the blessings we have received, finds its place. We will sing, “You are God: we praise you”, “In you, Lord, is our hope”, “Have mercy on us”. In this regard, Pope Francis observed that while “worldly gratitude, worldly hope are evident … they are focused on the self, on its interests … Instead, in this Liturgy … one breathes an entirely different atmosphere: one of praise, of wonder, of gratitude” (Homily of First Vespers of the Solemnity of Mary Mother of God, 31 December 2023).

And it is with these attitudes that today we are called upon to reflect on what the Lord has done for us over the past year, as well as to examine our consciences honestly, to evaluate our response to his gifts and to ask forgiveness for all the times we have failed to treasure his inspirations and invest the talents he has entrusted to us in the best possible way (cf. Mt 25:14-30).

This leads us to reflect on another great sign that has accompanied us in recent months: that of the “journey” and the “destination”. This year, countless pilgrims have come from all over the world to pray at the Tomb of Peter and to confirm their adherence to Christ. This reminds us that our whole life is a journey, whose final destination transcends space and time, to be fulfilled in the encounter with God and in full and eternal communion with Him (cf. Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1024). We will also ask for this in the Te Deum prayer, when we say: “Bring us with your saints to glory everlasting”. It is no coincidence that Saint Paul VI defined the Jubilee as a great act of faith in “anticipation of future destinies ... which we already foretaste and ... prepare for” (General Audience, 17 December 1975).

And in this eschatological light of the encounter between the finite and the infinite, a third sign can be seen: the passage through the Holy Door, which so many of us have made, praying and imploring forgiveness for ourselves and our loved ones. It expresses our “yes” to God, who with his forgiveness invites us to cross the threshold of a new life, animated by grace, modelled on the Gospel, inflamed by “love for that neighbour, in whose definition ... every man is included ... in need of understanding, help, comfort, sacrifice, even if personally unknown to us, even if bothersome and hostile, but endowed with the incomparable dignity of a brother” (Saint Paul VI, Homily on the occasion of the closing of the Holy Year, 25 December 1975; cf. Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1826-1827). It is our “yes” to a life lived with commitment in the present and oriented towards eternity.

Dear friends, we meditate on these signs in the light of Christmas. Saint Leo the Great, in this regard, saw the feast of the Birth of Jesus as the proclamation of a joy that is for everyone: “Let the saint rejoice”, he exclaimed, “because he is approaching his reward; let the sinner rejoice, because he is offered forgiveness; let the pagan take courage, because he is called to life” (First Discourse on the Nativity of the Lord, 1).

His invitation is addressed today to all of us, holy by Baptism, because God has become our companion on the journey towards true Life; to us sinners, because, forgiven, with his grace we can stand up and set off again; and finally, to us, poor and fragile, because the Lord, making our weakness his own, has redeemed it and shown us the beauty and strength of his perfect humanity (cf. Jn 1:14).

Therefore, I would like to conclude by remembering the words with which Saint Paul VI, at the end of the Jubilee of 1975, described its fundamental message. It is contained, he said, in one word: “love”. And he added, “God is Love! This is the ineffable revelation with which the Jubilee, through its teaching, its indulgence, its forgiveness and finally its peace, full of tears and joy, has sought to fill our spirit today and our lives tomorrow: God is Love! God loves me! God awaited me, and I have found him! God is mercy! God is forgiveness! God is salvation! God, yes, God is life!” (General Audience, 17 December 1975). May these thoughts accompany us in the passage from the old to the new year, and then always, in our lives.

I extend a warm welcome this morning to all the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors taking part in today’s Audience, especially those coming from Australia, China, Palestine, the Philippines and the United States of America. As we prepare for tomorrow’s celebration of the Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God, let us entrust the coming year to her maternal intercession. To all of you and your families, I offer my prayerful good wishes for a blessed Christmas season and a new year filled with joy and peace. God bless you all!

31.12.25 a

Dear brothers and sisters, happy Sunday!

Today we celebrate the Feast of the Holy Family, and the Liturgy offers us the story of their flight into Egypt (cf. Mt 2:13-15, 19-23).

It is a moment of trial for Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Indeed, the bright image of Christmas is suddenly almost eclipsed by the disturbing shadow of a deadly threat, which has its origin in the troubled life of Herod. A cruel and bloodthirsty man, who is feared for his brutality, but precisely for this reason he is deeply lonely and gripped with the fear of being deposed. When he learns from the Magi that the “king of the Jews” has been born (Mt 2:2), feeling this to be a threat to his power, he decrees that all children of the same age as Jesus should be killed. In his kingdom, God is performing the greatest miracle in history, in which all the ancient promises of salvation are fulfilled, but he cannot see this because he is blinded by the fear of losing his throne, riches and privileges. In Bethlehem there is light and joy as some shepherds have received the heavenly announcement and have glorified God before the manger (cf. Lk 2:8-20). But none of this can penetrate the armoured defences of the royal palace, except as a distorted echo of a threat to be stifled with blind violence.

It is precisely this hardness of heart, however, that further highlights the value of the presence and mission of the Holy Family. In the despotic and greedy world represented by the tyrant, it is the birthplace and cradle of the only possible answer of salvation, that of God who, in total gratuitousness, gives himself to men without reserve and without pretension. Being obedient to the voice of the Lord by taking his Bride and child to safety, the gesture of Joseph is revealed in all its redemptive significance. In Egypt, the flame of domestic love, to which the Lord has entrusted his presence in the world, grows and gains strength in order to bring light to the whole world.

As we contemplate this mystery with wonder and gratitude, we think of our families and the light they can bring to the society in which we live. Unfortunately, the world always has its “Herods,” its myths of success at any cost, of unscrupulous power, of empty and superficial well-being, and it often pays the price in the form of loneliness, despair, divisions and conflicts. Let us not allow these mirages to suffocate the flame of love in Christian families. On the contrary, in our families, we should cherish the values of the Gospel: prayer, frequent reception of the sacraments – especially Confession and Communion – healthy affections, sincere dialogue, fidelity, and the simple and beautiful concreteness of everyday words and gestures. This will make them a light of hope for the places in which we live; a school of love and an instrument of salvation in God’s hands (cf. Francis, Homily at Mass for the 10th World Meeting of Families, 25 June 2022).

Let us therefore ask our Father in Heaven, through the intercession of Mary and Saint Joseph, to bless our families and all families throughout the world, so that by following the model of his Son made man, they may be for all an efficacious sign of his presence and his endless charity.

Dear brothers and sisters,

I offer my warm greetings to all of you, Romans and pilgrims from various countries.

In the light of the Nativity of the Lord, let us continue to pray for peace. Today, in particular, let us pray for families suffering because of war, especially for children, elderly and the most vulnerable. Let us entrust ourselves together to the intercession of the Holy Family of Nazareth.

I wish everyone a happy Sunday!

28.12.25

Dear brothers and sisters, good afternoon!

Today is Saint Stephen’s “birthday,” as the first generations of Christians used to say with the certainty that we are not born just once. Moreover, seeing with the eyes of faith is to see no longer mere darkness, even in death, for Martyrdom is a birth into heaven. We do not choose to come into the world, but then we pass through many experiences in which we are asked to choose ever more intentionally to “come to the light,” to choose the light. The account in the Acts of the Apostles testifies that those who saw Stephen going to his martyrdom were struck by the light of his face and his words. It is written: “All who sat in the council looked intently at him, and they saw that his face was like the face of an angel” (Acts 6:15). This is the face of one who does not leave history indifferently, but responds to it with love. Everything Stephen does and says represents the divine love that appeared in Jesus, the Light that shines in our darkness.

Dear friends, the birth of the Son of God among us calls us to live as children of God. He makes this possible by attracting us through the humility of people such as Mary, Joseph, and the shepherds, whom we encounter from that night in Bethlehem. Yet the beauty of Jesus, and of those who imitate his life, is also rejected, for from the beginning, his magnetic force has provoked the reaction of those who struggle for power, those who are exposed by their acts of injustice because of a goodness that reveals the intentions of their hearts (cf. Lk 2:35). To this day, however, no power can prevail over the work of God. Everywhere in the world, there are those who choose justice even at great cost, those who put peace before their fears, and those who serve the poor instead of themselves. Hope then sprouts, and it makes sense to celebrate despite everything.

In the current conditions of uncertainty and suffering in the world, joy might seem impossible. Today, those who believe in peace and have chosen the unarmed path of Jesus and the martyrs are often ridiculed, excluded from public discourse, and not infrequently accused of favouring adversaries and enemies. Christians, however, have no enemies, but brothers and sisters, who remain so even when they do not understand each other. The mystery of Christmas brings us a joy motivated by the tenacity of those who already live in fraternity, of those who already recognise around them, even in their adversaries, the indelible dignity of the daughters and sons of God. Like Jesus, Stephen died forgiving others because of a force more real than that of weapons. It is a gratuitous force, already present in the hearts of all, and which is reawakened and shared in an irresistible way when we begin to look at our neighbour differently, offering them attention and recognition. Yes, this is what it means to be reborn, to come once more into the light, this is our “Christmas!”

Let us now pray to Mary and contemplate her, blessed among all women who give life and counter arrogance with care, and distrust with faith. May Mary bring us into her own joy, a joy that dissolves all fear and all threats, just as snow melts before the sun.

Dear brothers and sisters,

I renew my heartfelt good wishes for peace and serenity in the light of our Lord’s birth.

I greet all of you, the faithful of Rome and pilgrims from many countries.

As we remember Saint Stephen, the first Martyr, we seek his intercession for strengthening our faith and supporting the communities that suffer most for their Christian witness.

May his example of humility, courage and forgiveness accompany those who, in situations of conflict, are committed to promoting dialogue, reconciliation and peace.

I wish everyone a happy feast day!

26.12.25

Dear brothers and sisters,

“Let us all rejoice in the Lord, for our Saviour has been born in the world.  Today, true peace has come down to us from heaven” (Entrance Antiphon, Christmas Mass during the Night). Thus sings the liturgy on Christmas night, and the announcement of Bethlehem resounds in the Church: the Child born of the Virgin Mary is Christ the Lord, sent by the Father to save us from sin and death. Indeed, he is our peace; he has conquered hatred and enmity through God’s merciful love. For this reason, “the Lord’s birth is the birth of peace” (Saint Leo the Great, Sermon 26).

Jesus was born in a stable because there was no room for him in the inn. As soon as he was born, his mother Mary “wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger” (cf. Lk 2:7). The Son of God, through whom all things were created, was not welcomed, and a poor manger for animals was his crib.

The eternal Word of the Father whom the heavens cannot contain chose to come into the world in this way. Out of love, he wanted to be born of a woman and so share our humanity; out of love, he accepted poverty and rejection, identifying himself with those who are discarded and excluded.

Already in the birth of Jesus, we glimpse the fundamental decision that would guide the entire life of the Son of God, even to his death on the cross: the decision not to leave us under the burden of sin, but to bear it himself for us, to take it upon himself. He alone could do so. At the same time, however, he showed us what we alone can do, which is to take on our own share of responsibility. Indeed, God, who created us without us, will not save us without us (cf. Saint Augustine, Sermon 169, 11, 13), that is, without our free will to love. Those who do not love are not saved; they are lost. And those who do not love their brother or sister whom they see, cannot love God whom they do not see (cf. 1 Jn 4:20).

Sisters and brothers, responsibility is the sure way to peace. If all of us, at every level, would stop accusing others and instead acknowledge our own faults, asking God for forgiveness, and if we would truly enter into the suffering of others and stand in solidarity with the weak and the oppressed, then the world would change.

Jesus Christ is our peace first of all because he frees us from sin, and also because he shows us the way to overcome conflicts — all conflicts, whether interpersonal or international. Without a heart freed from sin, a heart that has been forgiven, we cannot be men and women of peace or builders of peace. This is why Jesus was born in Bethlehem and died on the cross: to free us from sin. He is the Saviour. With his grace, we can and must each do our part to reject hatred, violence and opposition, and to practice dialogue, peace and reconciliation.

On this day of celebration, I wish to send a warm and fatherly greeting to all Christians, especially those living in the Middle East, whom I recently visited on my first Apostolic Journey. I listened to them as they expressed their fears and know well their sense of powerlessness before the power dynamics that overwhelm them. The Child born today in Bethlehem is the same Jesus who says: “In me you may have peace. In the world you have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world” (Jn 16:33).

From God let us ask for justice, peace and stability for Lebanon, Palestine, Israel and Syria, trusting in these divine words: “The effect of righteousness will be peace, and the result of righteousness, quietness and trust for ever” (Is 32:17).

Let us entrust the entire European continent to the Prince of Peace, asking him to continue to inspire a spirit of community and cooperation, in fidelity to its Christian roots and history, and in solidarity with – and acceptance of – those in need. Let us pray in a particular way for the tormented people of Ukraine: may the clamour of weapons cease, and may the parties involved, with the support and commitment of the international community, find the courage to engage in sincere, direct and respectful dialogue.

From the Child of Bethlehem, we implore peace and consolation for the victims of all current wars in the world, especially those that are forgotten, and for those who suffer due to injustice, political instability, religious persecution and terrorism. I remember in a special way our brothers and sisters in Sudan, South Sudan, Mali, Burkina Faso and the Democratic Republic of Congo.

In these final days of the Jubilee of Hope, let us pray to God made man for the beloved people of Haiti, that all forms of violence in the country will cease and that progress will be made on the path of peace and reconciliation.

May the Child Jesus inspire those in Latin America who hold political responsibilities, so that, in facing the numerous challenges, space may be given to dialogue for the common good, rather than to ideological and partisan prejudices.

Let us ask the Prince of Peace to illuminate Myanmar with the light of a future of reconciliation, restoring hope to the younger generations, guiding its entire people along paths of peace, and accompanying those who live without shelter, security or confidence in tomorrow.

We ask the Lord that the ancient friendship between Thailand and Cambodia be restored, and that the parties involved will continue to work towards reconciliation and peace.

We also entrust to God the peoples of South Asia and Oceania, who have been severely tested by recent, devastating natural disasters that have struck entire communities. In the face of such trials, I invite everyone to renew, with heartfelt conviction, our shared commitment to assisting those who suffer.

Dear brothers and sisters, in the darkness of the night, “the true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world” (Jn 1:9), but “his own people did not accept him” (Jn 1:11). Let us not allow ourselves to be overcome by indifference towards those who suffer, for God is not indifferent to our distress.

In becoming man, Jesus took upon himself our fragility, identifying with each one of us: with those who have nothing left and have lost everything, like the inhabitants of Gaza; with those who are prey to hunger and poverty, like the Yemeni people; with those who are fleeing their homeland to seek a future elsewhere, like the many refugees and migrants who cross the Mediterranean or traverse the American continent; with those who have lost their jobs and those who are looking for work, like so many young people who struggle to find employment; with those who are exploited, like many underpaid workers; with those in prison, who often live in inhumane conditions.

The invocation of peace that rises from every land reaches God’s heart, as one poet wrote:

“Not the peace of a cease-fire, not even the vision of the wolf and the lamb, but rather as in the heart when the excitement is over and you can talk only about a great weariness…

Let it come like wildflowers, suddenly, because the field must have it: wildpeace.” [1]

On this holy day, let us open our hearts to our brothers and sisters who are in need or in pain. In doing so, we open our hearts to the Child Jesus, who welcomes us with open arms and reveals his divinity to us: “But to all who received him… he gave power to become children of God” (Jn 1:12).

In a few days’ time, the Jubilee Year will come to an end. The Holy Doors will close, but Christ our hope remains with us always! He is the Door that is always open, leading us into divine life. This is the joyful proclamation of this day: the Child who was born is God made man; he comes not to condemn but to save; his is not a fleeting appearance, for he comes to stay and to give himself. In him, every wound is healed and every heart finds rest and peace.  “The Lord’s birth is the birth of peace.”

To all of you, I offer heartfelt good wishes for a peaceful and holy Christmas!

[1] Y. Amichai, “Wildpeace”, in The Poetry of Yehuda Amichai, Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2015.

25.12.25 ueo

Dear brothers and sisters,

“Break forth together into songs of joy” (Is 52:9), cries the messenger of peace to those standing amid the ruins of a city in desperate need of rebuilding. Though dusty and wounded, his feet are beautiful, writes the prophet (cf. Is 52:7), because, along rugged and weary roads they have carried a glad announcement in which everything is reborn. A new day has dawned! We too are part of this new beginning, even if few as yet believe it: peace is real, and it is already among us.

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you” (Jn 14:27). Thus Jesus spoke to the disciples, whose feet he had just washed. They were to be messengers of peace, sent to journey tirelessly through the world to reveal to all the “power to become children of God” (Jn 1:12). Today, therefore, we are not only surprised by the peace that is already here; we also celebrate the way in which this gift has been given to us. In this “how,” in fact, shines the divine difference that causes us to break forth into songs of joy. For this reason, throughout the world, Christmas is a feast par excellence of music and song.

The prologue of the fourth Gospel is itself a hymn, with the Word of God as its protagonist. The “Word” is a word that acts. This is a hallmark of God’s Word: it is never without effect. Indeed, many of our own words also have effects, sometimes unintended. Yes, words “act.” Yet here is the surprise that the Christmas liturgy presents to us: the Word of God appears but cannot speak. He comes to us as a newborn baby who can only cry and babble. “The Word became flesh” (Jn 1:14). Though he will grow and one day learn the language of his people, for now he speaks only through his simple, fragile presence. “Flesh” is the radical nakedness that, in Bethlehem as on Calvary, remains even without words – just as so many brothers and sisters, stripped of their dignity and reduced to silence, have no words today. Human flesh asks for care; it pleads for welcome and recognition; it seeks hands capable of tenderness and minds willing to listen; it longs for words of kindness.

“He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him. But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God” (Jn 1:11-12). This is the paradoxical way in which peace is already among us: God’s gift invites us in; it seeks to be welcomed and, in turn, inspires our own self-giving. God surprises us because he leaves himself open to rejection. He also captivates us because he draws us away from indifference.  Becoming children of God is a true power – one that remains buried so long as we keep our distance from the cry of children and the frailty of the elderly, from the helpless silence of victims and the resigned melancholy of those who do the evil they do not want.

To remind us of the joy of the Gospel, our beloved Pope Francis wrote: “Sometimes we are tempted 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 and instead enter into the reality of other people’s lives and know the power of tenderness” (Evangelii Gaudium, 270).

Dear brothers and sisters, since the Word was made flesh, humanity now speaks, crying out with God’s own desire to encounter us. The Word has pitched his fragile tent among us. How, then, can we not think of the tents in Gaza, exposed for weeks to rain, wind and cold; and of those of so many other refugees and displaced persons on every continent; or of the makeshift shelters of thousands of homeless people in our own cities? Fragile is the flesh of defenceless populations, tried by so many wars, ongoing or concluded, leaving behind rubble and open wounds. Fragile are the minds and lives of young people forced to take up arms, who on the front lines feel the senselessness of what is asked of them and the falsehoods that fill the pompous speeches of those who send them to their deaths.

When the fragility of others penetrates our hearts, when their pain shatters our rigid certainties, then peace has already begun. The peace of God is born from a newborn’s cry that is welcomed, from weeping that is heard. It is born amidst ruins that call out for new forms of solidarity. It is born from dreams and visions that, like prophecies, reverse the course of history. Yes, all this exists, because Jesus is the Logos, the Meaning, from which everything has taken shape. “All things were made through him, and without him was not anything made that was made” (Jn 1:3). This mystery speaks to us from the nativity scenes we have built; it opens our eyes to a world in which the Word still resonates, “many times and in many ways” (cf. Heb 1:1), and still calls us to conversion.

To be sure, the Gospel does not hide the resistance of darkness to the light.  It describes the path of the Word of God as a rugged road, strewn with obstacles. To this day, authentic messengers of peace follow the Word along this path, which ultimately reaches hearts – restless hearts that often desire the very thing they resist. In this way, Christmas gives fresh impetus to a missionary Church, urging her onto the paths that the Word of God has traced for her. We do not serve a domineering Word – too many of those already resound everywhere – but a presence that inspires goodness, knows its efficacy and does not claim a monopoly over it.

This is the way of mission: a path toward others. In God, every word is an addressed word; it is an invitation to conversation, a word never closed in on itself. This is the renewal that the Second Vatican Council promoted, which will bear fruit only if we walk together with the whole of humanity, never separating ourselves from it. The opposite is worldliness: to have oneself at the center. The movement of the Incarnation is a dynamics of conversation.  There will be peace when our monologues are interrupted and, enriched by listening, we fall to our knees before the humanity of the other. In this, the Virgin Mary is the Mother of the Church, the Star of Evangelization, the Queen of Peace. In her, we understand that nothing is born from the display of force, and everything is reborn from the silent power of life welcomed.

25.12.25 m

Dear brothers and sisters,

For millennia, across the earth, peoples have gazed up at the sky, giving names to the silent stars, and seeing images therein. In their imaginative yearning, they tried to read the future in the heavens, seeking on high for a truth that was absent below amidst their homes. Yet, as if grasping in the dark, they remained lost, confounded by their own oracles. On this night, however, “the people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shined” (Is 9:2).

Behold the star that astonishes the world, a spark newly lit and blazing with life: “To you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord” (Lk 2:11). Into time and space – in our midst – comes the One without whom we would not exist. He who gives his life for us lives among us, illuminating the night with his light of salvation. There is no darkness that this star does not illumine, for by its light all humanity beholds the dawn of a new and eternal life.

It is the birth of Jesus, Emmanuel. In the Son made man, God gives us nothing less than his very self, in order to “redeem us from all iniquity and purify for himself a people of his own” (Titus 2:14). Born in the night is the One who redeems us from the night. The hint of the dawning day is no longer to be sought in the distant reaches of the cosmos, but by bending low, in the stable nearby.

The clear sign given to a darkened world is indeed “a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger” (Lk 2:12). To find the Savior, one must not gaze upward, but look below: the omnipotence of God shines forth in the powerlessness of a newborn; the eloquence of the eternal Word resounds in an infant’s first cry; the holiness of the Spirit gleams in that small body, freshly washed and wrapped in swaddling clothes. The need for care and warmth becomes divine since the Son of the Father shares in history with all his brothers and sisters. The divine light radiating from this Child helps us to recognize humanity in every new life.

To heal our blindness, the Lord chooses to reveal himself in each human being, who reflect his true image, according to a plan of love begun at the creation of the world. As long as the night of error obscures this providential truth, then “there is no room for others either, for children, for the poor, for the stranger” (Benedict XVI, Homily, Christmas Mass during the Night, 24 December 2012). These words of Pope Benedict XVI remain a timely reminder that on earth, there is no room for God if there is no room for the human person. To refuse one is to refuse the other. Yet, where there is room for the human person, there is room for God; even a stable can become more sacred than a temple, and the womb of the Virgin Mary become the Ark of the New Covenant.

Let us marvel, dear brothers and sisters, at the wisdom of Christmas. In the Child Jesus, God gives the world a new life: his own, offered for all. He does not give us a clever solution to every problem, but a love story that draws us in. In response to the expectations of peoples, he sends a child to be a word of hope. In the face of the suffering of the poor, he sends one who is defenceless to be the strength to rise again. Before violence and oppression, he kindles a gentle light that illumines with salvation all the children of this world. As Saint Augustine observed, “human pride weighed you down so heavily that only divine humility could raise you up again” (Saint Augustine, Sermon 188, III, 3). While a distorted economy leads us to treat human beings as mere merchandise, God becomes like us, revealing the infinite dignity of every person. While humanity seeks to become “god” in order to dominate others, God chooses to become man in order to free us from every form of slavery. Will this love be enough to change our history?

The answer will come as soon as we wake up from a deadly night into the light of new life, and, like the shepherds, contemplate the Child Jesus. Above the stable of Bethlehem, where Mary and Joseph watch over the newborn Child with hearts full of wonder, the starry sky is transformed into “a multitude of the heavenly host” (Lk 2:13). These are unarmed and disarming hosts, for they sing of the glory of God, of which peace on earth is the true manifestation (cf. v. 14). Indeed, in the heart of Christ beats the bond of love that unites heaven and earth, Creator and creatures.

For this reason, exactly one year ago, Pope Francis affirmed that the Nativity of Jesus rekindles in us the “gift and task of bringing hope wherever hope has been lost,” because “with him, joy flourishes; with him, life changes; with him, hope does not disappoint” (Homily, Christmas Mass during the Night, 24 December 2024). With these words, the Holy Year began. Now, as the Jubilee draws to a close, Christmas becomes for us a time of gratitude and mission; gratitude for the gift received, and mission to bear witness to it before the world. As the Psalmist sings: “Tell of his salvation from day to day. Declare his glory among the nations, his marvellous deeds among all the peoples” (Ps 96:2–3).

Brothers and sisters, contemplation of the Word made flesh awakens in the whole Church a new and true proclamation. Let us therefore announce the joy of Christmas, which is a feast of faith, charity and hope. It is a feast of faith, because God becomes man, born of the Virgin. It is a feast of charity, because the gift of the redeeming Son is realized in fraternal self-giving. It is a feast of hope, because the Child Jesus kindles it within us, making us messengers of peace. With these virtues in our hearts, unafraid of the night, we can go forth to meet the dawn of a new day.

24.12.25 m

Dear brothers and sisters, good afternoon!

Today, on the fourth Sunday of Advent, the liturgy invites us to meditate on the figure of Saint Joseph. In particular, we see him at the moment when God reveals his mission in a dream (cf. Mt 1:18-24). Thus, a very beautiful episode of salvation history is presented, in which the protagonist, like us, is a fragile and fallible man, yet at the same time is courageous and strong in faith.

The Evangelist Matthew calls him a “just man” (cf. 1:19), characterizing him as a pious Israelite who observes the Law and attends the synagogue. In addition to this, however, Joseph of Nazareth also strikes us as someone who is keenly sensitive and human.

We see an example of this even before the Angel reveals to him the mystery that is taking place in Mary. When Joseph is faced with a situation that is difficult to understand and accept, with regard to his future bride, he does not choose the path of scandal and public condemnation, but the discreet and benevolent path of secret repudiation (cf. Mt 1:19). In this way, he shows that he understands the deepest meaning of his own religious observance: the meaning of mercy.

The purity and nobility of his sentiments, however, become even more evident when the Lord, in a dream, reveals his plan of salvation to him, indicating the unexpected role that he must take up as the spouse of the Virgin Mother of the Messiah. Here, indeed, with a great act of faith, Joseph leaves even the last resort of his security and sets sail toward a future that is now totally in God’s hands. Saint Augustine describes his assent in this way: “Through Joseph’s piety and charity, a son was born of the Virgin Mary, and he was the Son of God” (Serm. 51: 20, 30).

Piety and charity, mercy and abandonment: these are the virtues of the man from Nazareth that today’s liturgy shows us, so that they may accompany us in these last days of Advent, towards Christmas. These are important attitudes that educate the heart to encounter Christ and our brothers and sisters. They can also help us to be, for one another, a welcoming manger, a hospitable home, a sign of God’s presence. In this time of grace, let us not waste the opportunity to practice them: forgiving, encouraging, giving a little hope to those with whom we live and those we meet; and renewing in prayer our filial abandonment to the Lord and his providence, entrusting everything to him with confidence.

May we find help from the Virgin Mary and Saint Joseph, who, with faith and great love, were the first to welcome Jesus, the Saviour of the world.

Dear brothers and sisters!

Today, I send a special greeting to the children and young people of Rome! Dear friends, you have come with your families and catechists for the blessing of the figurines of the Child Jesus, which you will place in the mangers in your homes, schools and parish community centers. I thank the Roman Oratory Center for organizing this event, and I cordially bless all the “bambinelli.” Dear children, as you stand before your Nativity scenes, please pray to Jesus for the Pope’s intentions as well. In particular, let us pray together that all the world’s children may live in peace. I thank you from the bottom of my heart!

And together with the “bambinelli” and all the expressions of our faith in the Child Jesus, may the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit always bless you.

I wish you all a happy Sunday and a holy, peaceful Christmas!

21.12.25

Dear brothers and sisters, good morning and welcome!

Human life is characterized by a constant movement that drives us to do, to act. Nowadays speed is required everywhere in order to achieve optimal results in a wide variety of fields. How does Jesus’ resurrection shed light on this aspect of our experience? When we participate in his victory over death, will we rest? Faith tells us: yes, we will rest. We will not be inactive, but we will enter into God’s repose, which is peace and joy. So, should we just wait, or can this change us right now?

We are absorbed by many activities that do not always leave us satisfied. A lot of our actions have to do with practical, concrete things. We have to assume responsibility for many commitments, solve problems, face difficulties. Jesus too was involved with people and with life, not sparing himself, but rather giving himself to the end. Yet we often perceive how too much doing, instead of giving us fulfilment, becomes a vortex that overwhelms us, takes away our serenity, and prevents us from living to the fullest what is truly important in our lives. We then feel tired and dissatisfied: time seems to be wasted on a thousand practical things that do not, however, resolve the ultimate meaning of our existence. Sometimes, at the end of days full of activities, we feel empty. Why? Because we are not machines, we have a “heart”; indeed, we can say that we are a heart.

The heart is the symbol of all our humanity, the sum of our thoughts, feelings and desires, the invisible centre of our selves. The Evangelist Matthew invites us to reflect on the importance of the heart, quoting this beautiful phrase of Jesus: “For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also” (Mt 6:21).

It is therefore in the heart that true treasure is kept, not in earthly safes, not in large financial investments, which today more than ever before are out of control and unjustly concentrated at the bloody price of millions of human lives and the devastation of God’s creation.

It is important to reflect on these aspects, because in the numerous commitments we continually face, there is an increasing risk of dispersion, sometimes of despair, of meaninglessness, even in apparently successful people. Instead, interpreting life in the light of Easter, looking at it with the Risen Jesus, means finding access to the essence of the human person, to our heart: cor inquietum. With this adjective “restless”, Saint Augustine helps us understand the human being’s yearning for fulfilment. The full sentence refers to the beginning of the Confessions, where Augustine writes: “Lord, you have made us for yourself, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you” (I, 1,1).

Restlessness is the sign that our heart does not move by chance, in a disordered way, without a purpose or a destination, but is oriented towards its ultimate destination, the “return home”. The authentic approach of the heart does not consist in possessing the goods of this world, but in achieving what can fill it completely; namely, the love of God, or rather, God who is Love. This treasure, however, can only be found by loving the neighbour we meet along the way: brothers and sisters in flesh and blood, whose presence stirs and questions our heart, calling it to open up and give itself. Our neighbour asks us to slow down, to look them in the eye, sometimes to change our plans, perhaps even to change direction.

Dear friends, here is the secret of the movement of the human heart: returning to the source of its being, delighting in the joy that never fails, that never disappoints. No one can live without a meaning that goes beyond the contingent, beyond what passes away. The human heart cannot live without hope, without knowing that it is made for fullness, not for want.

Jesus Christ, with his Incarnation, Passion, Death and Resurrection, has given us a solid foundation for this hope. The restless heart will not be disappointed, if it enters into the dynamism of the love for which it was created. The destination is certain, life has triumphed, and in Christ it will continue to triumph in every death of daily life. This is Christian hope: let us always bless and thank the Lord who has given it to us!

I extend a warm welcome this morning to all the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors taking part in today’s Audience, especially those coming from Nigeria, Indonesia and the United States of America. I pray that each of you, and your families, may experience a blessed Advent in preparation for the coming of the new born Jesus, Son of God and Savior of the world. God bless you all!

Lastly, I greet the sick, the newlyweds and the young people, especially the students of the Cicero Institute of Sala Consilina and those of the Capriotti Institute of San Benedetto del Tronto. In a few days it will be Christmas and I imagine that in your homes the preparation of the nativity scene, an evocative representation of the Mystery of the Nativity of Christ, is being completed or has already been completed. I hope that such an important element, not only of our faith, but also of Christian culture and art, will continue to be part of Christmas to remember Jesus who, in becoming man, came "to dwell among us".

My blessing to you all!

17.12.25

Dear brothers and sisters, happy Sunday!

Today’s Gospel places in jail with John the Baptist, who finds himself imprisoned because of his preaching (cf. Mt 14:3-5). Nevertheless, he does not lose hope, thus becoming for us a sign that a prophet, even in chains, retains the ability to use his voice in the pursuit of truth and justice.

From prison, John the Baptist hears “about the works of Christ” (Mt 11:2), which are different from what he expected, so he sends his disciples to ask him: “Are you the one who is to come, or should we wait for another?” (v. 3). Those who seek truth and justice, those who long for freedom and peace, have questions about Jesus: Is he truly the Messiah, the Saviour promised by God through the prophets?

Jesus responds by directing our gaze toward those whom he loved and served. It is: the least, the poor, the sick who speak on his behalf. Christ announces who he is by what he does. And what he does is a sign of salvation for all of us. In fact, by encountering Jesus – lives previously deprived of light, speech and taste regain meaning – the blind see, the mute speak, the deaf hear. The image of God, seemingly disfigured by leprosy, regains wholeness and vitality. Even the dead, who are completely lifeless, come back to life (cf. v. 5). This is the Gospel of Jesus, the good news proclaimed to the poor. Thus, when God comes into the world, it is clearly seen!

The words of Jesus free us from the prison of despair and suffering. Every prophecy finds its expected fulfillment in Him. It is Christ who opens the eyes of man to the glory of God. He gives voice to the oppressed and to those whose voices have been silenced by violence and hatred. He defeats ideologies that make us deaf to the truth. He heals the ailments that deform the body.

In this way, the Word of life redeems us from evil, which causes the heart to die.  For this reason, in this Advent season, as disciples of the Lord, we are called to combine our anticipation of the Savior with attention to what God is doing in the world. Then we will be able to experience the joy of freedom in encountering our Savior: “Gaudete in Domino semper – Rejoice in the Lord always” (Phil 4:4). This invitation introduces today’s Holy Mass, the third Sunday of Advent, called Gaudete Sunday. Let us rejoice, since Jesus is our hope, especially in times of trial, when life seems to lose meaning and everything appears darker, words fail us, and we struggle to understand others.

May the Virgin Mary, model of expectant hope, attentiveness, and joy, help us to imitate the work of her Son by sharing bread and the Gospel with the poor.

Dear brothers and sisters!

Yesterday in Jaén, Spain, Father Emanuele Izquierdo and fifty-eight companions were beatified, together with Father Antonio Montañés Chiquero and sixty-four companions.  All of them were killed in hatred of the faith during the religious persecution from 1936-38.  Also yesterday Raymond Cayré, priest, Gérard-Martin Cendrier, of the Order of Friars Minor, Roger Vallé, seminarian, Jean Mestre, layman, and forty-six companions were beatified in Paris. They were killed in hatred of the faith in 1944-45 during the Nazi occupation. Let us praise the Lord for these martyrs, courageous witnesses to the Gospel, persecuted and killed for remaining close to their people and faithful to the Church!

I am following with deep concern the resumption of fighting in the eastern part of the Democratic Republic of Congo. While expressing my closeness to the people, I urge the parties in the conflict to cease all forms of violence and to seek constructive dialogue, respecting the ongoing peace process.

I wish everyone a happy Sunday.

14.12.25a

Dear brothers and sisters,

Today we celebrate the Jubilee of Hope for correctional institutions, prisoners and all those who oversee or work in the penitentiary system. The choice of this day, the third Sunday of Advent, for this particular jubilee is rich in meaning, as it is the day that the Church calls Gaudete Sunday, whose name comes from the first words of the entrance antiphon for the Mass (cf. Phil 4:4). In the Liturgical Year, it is the Sunday “of joy”, which reminds us of the bright aspect of waiting: the confidence that something beautiful, something joyful will happen.

In this regard, on 26 December last year, Pope Francis, when opening the Holy Door in the Church of Our Father in the prison in Rebibbia, addressed this invitation to everyone: “I say two things to you: First, the rope in hand, with the anchor of hope. Second, open wide the doors of your heart”. Referring to an image already directed toward eternity, beyond the barrier of space and time (cf. Heb 6:17-20), he was inviting us to keep alive our faith in the life to come and always to believe in the possibility of a better future. At the same time, however, he was exhorting us to be people who practice, with generous hearts, justice and charity in the places where we live.

While the close of the Jubilee Year draws near, we must recognize that, despite the efforts of many, even in the penitentiary system there is much that still needs to be done in this regard. The words of the prophet Isaiah that we have just heard, “the ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to Zion with singing” (35:10), remind us that it is God who ransoms, who redeems and liberates. Furthermore, they convey the sense of an important and demanding mission for all of us. Certainly, prison is a difficult place and even the best proposals can encounter many obstacles. For this reason, however, we must never tire, be discouraged or give up. We must keep moving forward with tenacity, courage and a spirit of collaboration. Indeed, there are many who do not yet understand that for every fall one must be able to get back up, that no human being is defined only by his or her actions and that justice is always a process of reparation and reconciliation.

Yet, when even in difficult situations we are able to maintain and preserve the beauty of feelings, sensitivity, attention to the needs of others, respect, the capacity for mercy and forgiveness, beautify flowers spring forth from the “hard ground” of sin and suffering. Moreover, gestures, projects and encounters, unique in their humanity, mature even within prison walls. This involves working on one’s own feelings and thoughts, which is necessary for those deprived of their freedom, but even more so for those who have the obligation of representing them and making sure that they are treated justly. The Jubilee is a call to conversion and, as such, it is a source of hope and joy.

For this reason, it is important to look first of all to Jesus, to his humanity and to his Kingdom in which “the blind receive their sight, the lame walk… and the poor have good news preached to them” (Mt 11:5). We must remember that, even if at times these miracles come through the extraordinary interventions of God, more often they are entrusted to us, to our compassion, attention and wisdom and to the responsibility of our community and institutions.

This brings us to another dimension of the prophesy that we heard: the obligation to promote in every place – and I wish to emphasize particularly in prisons – a society established on new criteria, and ultimately on charity, as Saint Paul VI said at the conclusion of the 1975 Jubilee Year: “This – charity – should be, especially on the plane of public life, … the beginning of the new hour of grace and goodwill, which the calendar of history opens before us: the civilization of love!” (General Audience, 31 December 1975).

To this end, Pope Francis also hoped that during this Jubilee year “forms of amnesty or pardon meant to help individuals regain confidence in themselves and in society” (Bull, Spes Non Confundit, 10) could be granted and real opportunities of reintegration could be offered to all (cf. ibid.). I hope that many countries are following his desire. The Jubilee, as we know, with its biblical origin, was a year of grace in which everyone was offered the possibility of restarting in many different ways (cf. Lev 25:8-10).

The Gospel that we heard also speaks to us of this reality. John the Baptist, while he was preaching and baptizing, invited the people to repentance and to cross the river once again, symbolically, as in the time of Joshua (cf. Josh 3:17) in order to enter into and take possession of the new “Promised Land”, that is a heart reconciled with God and with our brothers and sisters. In this sense, John’s profile as a prophet is eloquent: he was upright, austere and frank, even to the point of being imprisoned for his courageous words. He was not “A reed shaken by the wind” (Mt 11:7). Yet at the same time, he was rich in mercy and understanding towards all who sincerely repented and were struggling to change (cf, Lk 3:10-14).

In this regard, Saint Augustine concludes one of his famous commentaries on the episode in the Gospel of the adulterous woman (cf. Jn 8:1-11) saying: “When the accusers left, only the poor woman and mercy remained. And to her the Lord said: go and sin no more (Jn 8:10-11)” (Sermo 302, 14).

Dear friends, the task that the Lord entrusts to you — to all of you, prisoners and those who work in the penitentiary system — is not easy. There are many problems to be addressed. Here, we can mention overcrowding, insufficient commitment to guarantee stable educational programs for rehabilitation and job opportunities. On a more personal level, let us not forget the weight of the past, the wounds to be healed in body and heart, the disappointments, the infinite patience that is needed with oneself and with others when embarking on paths of conversion, and the temptation to give up or to no longer forgive. The Lord, however, beyond all this, continues to repeat to us that only one thing is important: that no one be lost (cf. Jn 6:39) and that all “be saved” (1 Tim 2:4).

Let no one be lost! Let all be saved! This is what our God wants, this is his Kingdom, and this is the goal of his actions in the world. As Christmas approaches, we too want to embrace more strongly his dream, while being steadfast and faithful in our commitment (cf. James 5:8). We know that even in the face of the greatest challenges, we are not alone: the Lord is near (cf. Phil 4:5), he walks with us, and with him at our side, something beautiful and joyful will always happen.

14.12.25 m

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

The mystery of death has always raised profound questions in human beings. Indeed, it seems to be the most natural and at the same time most unnatural event that exists. It is natural, because every living being on earth dies. It is unnatural, because the desire for life and eternity that we all feel for ourselves and for the people we love makes us see death as a sentence, as a “contradiction”.

Many ancient peoples developed rites and customs linked to the cult of the dead, to accompany and to recall those who journeyed towards the supreme mystery. Today, however, we see a different trend. Death seems to be a sort of taboo, an event to keep at a distance; something to be spoken of in hushed tones, to avoid disturbing our sensibilities and our tranquillity. This is often why we avoid visiting cemeteries, where those who have gone before us rest as they await resurrection.

So what is death? Is it truly the last word on our lives? Only human beings ask themselves this question, because only they know they must die. But being aware of this does not save them from death; on the contrary, in a certain sense it “burdens” them compared to other living creatures. Animals suffer, of course, and they realize that death is near, but they do not know that death is part of their destiny. They do not question the meaning, purpose and outcome of life.

Considering this aspect, one might then think that we are paradoxical, unhappy creatures, not only because we die, but also because we are certain that this event will happen, even though we do not know how or when. We find ourselves aware and at the same time powerless. This is probably where the frequent repressions and existential flights from the question of death originate.

Saint Alphonsus Maria de’ Liguori, in his famous work Apparecchio alla morte (Preparation for Death), reflects on the pedagogical value of death, emphasizing that it can be a great teacher of life. To know that it exists, and above all to reflect on it, teaches us to choose what we really want to make of our existence. Praying, in order to understand what is beneficial in view of the kingdom of heaven, and letting go of the superfluous that instead binds us to ephemeral things, is the secret to living authentically, in the awareness that our passage on earth prepares us for eternity.

Yet many current anthropological views promise immanent immortality, theorize the prolongation of earthly life through technology. This is the transhuman scenario, which is making its way into the horizon of the challenges of our time. Could death really be defeated by science? But then, could science itself guarantee us that a life without death is also a happy life?

The event of the Resurrection of Christ reveals to us that death is not opposed to life, but rather is a constitutive part of it, as the passage to eternal life. The Pasch of Jesus gives us a foretaste, in this time still full of suffering and trials, of the fullness of what will happen after death.

The Evangelist Luke seems to grasp this harbinger of light in the dark when, at the end of that afternoon when darkness had shrouded Calvary, he writes: “It was the day of Preparation, and the sabbath was beginning” (Lk 23:54). This light, which anticipates Easter morning, already shines in the darkness of the sky, which still appears overcast and mute. The lights of the Sabbath, for the first and only time, herald the dawn of the day after the Sabbath: the new light of the Resurrection. Only this event is capable of illuminating the mystery of death to its full extent. In this light, and only in this, what our heart desires and hopes becomes true: that death is not the end, but the passage towards full light, towards a happy eternity.

The Risen One has gone before us in the great trial of death, emerging victorious thanks to the power of divine Love. Thus, he has prepared for us the place of eternal rest, the home where we are awaited; he has given us the fullness of life in which there are no longer any shadows and contradictions.

Thanks to Him, who died and rose again for love, with Saint Francis we can call death our “sister”. Awaiting it with the sure hope of the Resurrection preserves us from the fear of disappearing forever and prepares us for the joy of life without end.

I am deeply saddened by the news of the renewed conflict along the border between Thailand and Cambodia, which has claimed civilian lives and forced thousands of people to flee their homes. I express my closeness in prayer to these dear peoples, and I call on the parties to immediately cease fire and resume dialogue.

I extend a warm welcome this morning to all the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors taking part in today’s Audience, especially those coming from England, Wales, Malta, Uganda, Australia, Japan, Malaysia, Singapore and the United States of America.  I pray that each of you, and your families, may experience a blessed Advent in preparation for the coming of the new born Jesus, Son of God and Saviour of the world.  God bless you all!

Lastly, I greet the young people, the sick and the newlyweds. Today we celebrate the memorial of the Blessed Virgin Mary of Loreto. Dear young people, at the school of Mary you learn to love and to hope; dear sick people, may the Blessed Virgin be your companion and comfort in suffering; and you, dear newlyweds, entrust your conjugal journey to the Mother of Jesus.

My blessing to you all!

10.12.25

Dear brothers and sisters, happy feast day!

Today we celebrate the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary.  We express our joy because the Father of Heaven wanted her to be “preserved immune from all stain of original sin” (Pius IX, Apostolic Constitution Ineffabilis Deus, 8 December 1854), full of innocence and holiness in order to be able to entrust to her, for our salvation, “his only begotten Son … whom … the Father loves from his heart” (cf. ibid.)

The Lord has granted to Mary the extraordinary grace of a completely pure heart, in view of an even greater miracle: the coming of Christ the Savior into the world as man (cf. Lk 1:31-33).  The Virgin learned about this, with the wonder typical of the humble, from the greeting of the Angel: “Hail, full of grace: the Lord is with you” (v. 28) and with faith she responded with her “yes”: “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word” (v. 38).

Commenting on these words, Saint Augustine says that “Mary believed, and what she believed was fulfilled in her” (Sermon 215, 4).  The gift of the fullness of grace, in the young woman of Nazareth, was able to bear fruit because she in her freedom welcomed it, embracing the plan of God.  The Lord always acts in this way: he gives us great gifts, but he leaves us free to accept them or not.  For this reason, Augustine adds: “We also believe, because that which came to be [in her] can also benefit us” (ibid.).  And so this feast, which makes us rejoice for the unsullied beauty of the Mother of God, also invites us to believe as she believed, giving our generous assent to the mission to which the Lord calls us.

The miracle, which took place at Mary’s conception, was renewed for us in Baptism: cleansed from original sin, we have become children of God, his dwelling place and the temple of the Holy Spirit.  And just as Mary, by means of a special grace, was able to welcome Jesus in herself and give him to all people, so too “Baptism allows Christ to live in us and allows us to live united with him, to cooperate in the Church, each according to his or her condition, for the transformation of the world” (Francis, Catechesis, 11 April 2018).

Dear friends, how great is the gift of the Immaculate Conception, but so also is the gift of Baptism that we have received!  The “yes” of the Mother of the Lord is wonderful, but so also can ours be, renewed faithfully each day, with gratitude, humility and perseverance, in prayer and in concrete acts of love, from the most extraordinary gestures to the most mundane and ordinary efforts and acts of service.  In this way, Christ can be known, welcomed and loved everywhere and salvation can come to everyone.

Today, let us ask the Father for this, through the intercession of Mary Immaculate, while we pray together the very same words by which she herself first believed.

Dear brothers and sisters,

I wish all of you a peaceful feast day in the light of our heavenly Mother.

08.12.25

Dear brothers and sisters, happy Sunday!

The Gospel for this second Sunday of Advent announces the coming of the Kingdom of God (cf. Mt 3:1-12).  Before Jesus’s public ministry, John the Baptist, his precursor, appears on the scene.  John preached in the desert of Judea saying: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near!” (Mt 3:1).

In the “Our Father” we pray each day: “Thy kingdom come”, as Jesus himself taught us.  With this invocation we turn towards the new thing that God has in store for us, recognizing that the course of history is not already written by the powerful people of this world.  Let us, then, put our thoughts and energy at the service of God who came not to reign over us, but rather to free us.  This is the “gospel”, the truly good news that motivates and draws us in.

Certainly, in his preaching, the Baptist’s tone is severe.  Nonetheless, the people listen attentively because they hear resounding in his words God’s plea to take life seriously, to take advantage of the present moment in order to prepare themselves for the encounter with him who judges, not by appearance, but by the deeds and intentions of the heart.

This same John will be surprised at the manner in which the Kingdom of God manifests itself in Jesus Christ, in meekness and in mercy.  The prophet Isaiah compared Jesus to a sprout: an image not of power or destruction, but of birth and newness.  Upon the shoot, which sprouts forth from a seemingly dead tree trunk, the Holy Spirit begins gently to blow its gifts (cf. Is 11:1-10).  Each one of us can think of a similar surprise that has happened to us in life.

This, too, is what the Church experienced in the Second Vatican Council, which concluded exactly sixty years ago.  It is an experience that is renewed when we journey together toward the Kingdom of God with everyone eager to welcome and serve it.  When the Kingdom comes to fruition, not only will those things which seem weak or marginal bud forth, but even those things which humanly speaking would be impossible will also be brought to fulfillment.  In the images given by the prophet: “The wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid, and the calf and the lion and the fatling together, and a little child shall lead them” (Is 11:6).

Sisters and brothers, how much the world needs this hope!  Nothing is impossible to God.  Let us prepare ourselves for his Kingdom, let us welcome it.  The little child, Jesus of Nazareth, will lead us!  He who placed himself in our hands, from the night of his birth to the dark hour of his death on the cross, shines upon our history as the rising Sun.  A new day has begun: let us arise and walk in his light!

This is the spirituality of Advent, very luminous and concrete.  The streetlights remind us that each of us can be a little light, if we welcome Jesus, the shoot of a new world.  Let us learn how to do this from Mary, our Mother, a woman of hope who remains faithful in waiting.

Dear brothers and sisters,

A few days ago I returned from my first Apostolic Journey to Türkiye and Lebanon.  With my beloved brother Bartholomew, Ecumenical Patriarch of Constantinople, and the Representatives of other Christian confessions, we gathered to pray together in Iznik, the site of the ancient city of Nicea, where 1700 years ago, the first Ecumenical Council took place.  Today is the 60th anniversary of the Common Declaration between Pope Paul VI and the Patriarch Athenagoras, which put an end to the mutual excommunications.  We give thanks to God and renew our dedication to journeying towards the full visible unity of all Christians.  In Türkiye I had the joy of meeting the Catholic community: through patient dialogue and service to those who suffer, they witness to the Gospel of love and the logic of God who manifests himself in littleness.

Lebanon continues to be a mosaic of coexistence and it comforted me to hear many testimonies in this regard.  I met people who announce the Gospel by welcoming refugees, visiting the imprisoned, and sharing food with those in need.  I was comforted by the sight of so many people in the street who came to greet me. And I was likewise touched by the meeting with the relatives of the victims of the explosion in the port of Beirut.  The Lebanese people were waiting for a word and a presence of consolation, but it was they who comforted me with their faith and their enthusiasm!  I thank everyone who accompanied me with their prayers!  Dear brothers and sisters, all that has happened in these recent days in Türkiye and Lebanon teaches us that peace is possible, and that Christians in dialogue with men and women of other faiths and cultures can contribute to building it up.  Let us not forget that peace is possible!

I would like to express my closeness to the people of South and Southeast Asia, who have been severely tried by recent natural disasters.  I pray for the victims, for the families who mourn their loss and for those who provide assistance.  I exhort the international community and all people of goodwill to support our brothers and sisters of those regions with gestures of solidarity.

I wish everyone a happy Sunday and a blessed Advent journey.

07.12.25

Dear brothers and sisters!

At the end of these intense days, which we have joyfully shared together, we give thanks to the Lord for the many gifts of his goodness, his presence among us, the Word he abundantly offers us and for allowing us to be together.

As we have just heard in the Gospel, Jesus also had words of gratitude for the Father and, turning to him, prayed: “I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth” (Lk 10:21).

However, praise does not always find a place within us. Sometimes, weighed down by the struggles of life, worried about the many problems around us, paralyzed by powerlessness in the face of evil and oppressed by so many difficult situations, we are more inclined to resignation and lamentation than to wonder and gratitude.

Dear people of Lebanon, I invite you to cultivate always an attitude of praise and gratitude. You are the recipients of a rare beauty with which the Lord has adorned your land. At the same time, you are witnesses and victims of how evil, in its various forms, can obscure this splendor.

From this esplanade overlooking the sea, I too can contemplate the beauty of Lebanon that is sung about in Scripture. The Lord planted his tall cedars here, nourishing and watering them (cf. Ps 104:16). He made the garments of the bride in the Song of Songs fragrant with the perfume of this land (cf. 4:11), and in Jerusalem, the holy city clothed in light for the coming of the Messiah, he announced: “The glory of Lebanon shall come to you, the cypress, the plane, and the pine, to beautify the place of my sanctuary, and I will glorify the place where my feet rest” (Is 60:13).

This beauty, however, is overshadowed by poverty and suffering, the wounds that have marked your history. In this regard, I just visited the port in order to pray at the site of the explosion. The beauty of your country is also overshadowed by the many problems that afflict you, the fragile and often unstable political context, the dramatic economic crisis that weighs heavily upon you and the violence and conflicts that have reawakened ancient fears.

In such a scenario, gratitude easily gives way to disillusionment, songs of praise find no place in the desolation of the heart and hope is dried up by uncertainty and confusion.

The word of the Lord, however, invites us to find the small shining lights in the heart of the night, both to open ourselves to gratitude and to spur us on to a common commitment for the sake of this land.

As we have heard, the reason Jesus gives thanks to the Father is not for his extraordinary works, but because he reveals his greatness specifically to the little ones and to the humble, to those who do not attract attention and seemingly count for little or nothing and have no voice. The Kingdom that Jesus comes to inaugurate is marked, in fact, by the very characteristic described by the prophet Isaiah: it is a shoot, a small branch sprouting from a trunk (cf. Is 11:1). It is a small sign of hope that promises rebirth when everything else seems to be dying. Indeed, the coming of the Messiah was announced in the smallness of a shoot, because he can only be recognized by the little ones, by those who humbly know how to recognize the hidden details and traces of God in a seemingly lost story.

It is also an indication for us, so that we may have eyes capable of recognizing the smallness of the shoot that emerges and grows even in the midst of a painful period. Even here and now, we can see small lights that shine in the night, small shoots that sprout forth and small seeds planted in the arid garden in this era of history. I think of your sincere and genuine faith, rooted in your families and nourished by Christian schools. I think of the constant work of parishes, congregations and movements to meet the questions and needs of the people. I think of the many priests and religious who devote themselves to their mission amid many difficulties, and of the lay people dedicated to charitable works and the promotion of the Gospel in society. For these lights that strive to illuminate the darkness of the night, and for these small and invisible shoots that nevertheless open up hope for the future, today we join Jesus in saying: “We praise you, Father!” We thank you because you are with us and do not let us falter.

At the same time, this gratitude must not remain an introspective and illusory consolation. It must lead us to a transformation of the heart, a conversion of life and a realization that God has made us precisely to live in the light of faith, the promise of hope and the joy of charity. As a result, we are all called to cultivate these shoots, to not be discouraged, to not give in to the logic of violence and the idolatry of money, and to not resign ourselves in the face of the spreading evil.

Everyone must do their part, and we must unite our efforts so that this land can return to its former glory. Disarming our hearts is the only way to do this. Let us cast off the armour of our ethnic and political divisions, open our religious confessions to mutual encounter and reawaken in our hearts the dream of a united Lebanon. A Lebanon where peace and justice reign, where all recognize each other as brothers and sisters, and, finally, where the words of the prophet Isaiah can be fulfilled: “The wolf shall live with the lamb, the leopard shall lie down with the kid, the calf and the lion shall graze together” (Is 11:6).

This is the dream entrusted to you; it is what the God of peace places in your hands. Lebanon, stand up! Be a home of justice and fraternity! Be a prophetic sign of peace for the whole of the Levant!

Brothers and sisters, I too would like to repeat the words of Jesus: “I praise you, Father.” I raise my gratitude to the Lord for having shared these days with you. While I carry your sufferings and hopes in my heart, I pray that this land of the Levant may always be illuminated by faith in Jesus Christ, the sun of justice. I likewise pray that through the grace of Christ, Lebanon will persevere in that hope that does not disappoint.

Dear brothers and sisters,

During these days of my first Apostolic Journey, undertaken during this Jubilee Year, I wanted to come as a pilgrim of hope to the Middle East, imploring God for the gift of peace for this beloved land, marked by instability, wars and suffering.

Dear Christians of the Levant, when the results of your efforts for peace are slow in coming, I invite you to lift your gaze to the Lord who is coming! Let us look to him with hope and courage, inviting everyone to set out on the path of coexistence, fraternity and peace. Be artisans of peace, heralds of peace, witnesses of peace!

The Middle East needs new approaches, in order to reject the mindset of revenge and violence, to overcome political, social and religious divisions, and to open new chapters in the name of reconciliation and peace. The path of mutual hostility and destruction in the horror of war has been traveled too long, with the deplorable results that are before everyone's eyes. We need to change course, we need to educate our hearts for peace.

From this square, I pray for the Middle East and all peoples who suffer because of war. I also offer hopeful prayers for a peaceful solution to the current political disputes in Guinea-Bissau. Nor do I forget the victims, and their dear families, of the fire in Hong Kong.

I especially pray for beloved Lebanon! I ask the international community once again to spare no effort in promoting processes of dialogue and reconciliation. I make a heartfelt appeal to those who hold political and social authority, here and in all countries marked by war and violence: listen to the cry of your peoples who are calling for peace! Let us all place ourselves at the service of life, the common good and the integral development of people.

Finally, to you, Christians of the Levant, citizens of these lands in every respect, I repeat: have courage! The whole Church looks to you with affection and admiration. May the Blessed Virgin Mary, Our Lady of Harissa, protect you always.

02.12.25