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Dear brothers and sisters,
At the beginning of each liturgical season, we joyfully rediscover the grace of being Church, namely a community gathered to listen to the word of God. The voice of the Prophet Joel speaks to us, bringing each of us out of our isolation and showing us the urgent need for conversion, which is always both personal and public: “Gather the people. Sanctify the congregation; assemble the aged; gather the children, even infants at the breast” (2:16). He mentions the most fragile and least suited to large gatherings, those whose absence would be easy to justify. The prophet goes on to refer to husband and wife: he seems to call them from the privacy of their marital life, so that they will feel part of a larger community. Then he turns to priests, who already find themselves — almost by duty — “between the vestibule and the altar” (v. 17). They are invited to weep and to express these fitting words on behalf of all: “Spare your people, O Lord!” (ibid).
Even today, Lent remains a powerful time for community: “Gather the people. Sanctify the congregation” (Joel 2:16). We know that it has become increasingly difficult to gather people together and make them feel like a community — not in a nationalistic and aggressive way, but in a communion where each of us finds our place. Indeed, during Lent, a people is formed that recognises its sins. These sins are evils that have not come from supposed enemies, but afflicts our hearts, and exist within us. We need to respond by courageously accepting responsibility for them. Moreover, we must accept that while this attitude is countercultural, it constitutes an authentic, honest and attractive option, especially in our times, when it is so easy to feel powerless in the face of a world that is in flames. Truly, the Church exists as a community of witnesses that recognise their sins.
Naturally, sin is personal, but it takes shape in the real and virtual contexts of life, in the attitudes we adopt towards each other that mutually impact us, and often within real economic, cultural, political and even religious “structures of sin.” Scripture teaches us that opposing idolatry with worship of the living God means daring to be free, and rediscovering freedom through an exodus, a journey, where we are no longer paralyzed, rigid or complacent in our positions, but gathered together to move and change. How rare it is to find adults who repent — individuals, businesses and institutions that admit they have done wrong!
Today, we are reflecting precisely on this possibility of repentance. Indeed, it is no coincidence that, even in secularised contexts, many young people, more than in the past, are open to the invitation of Ash Wednesday. Young people especially understand clearly that it is possible to live a just lifestyle, and that there should be accountability for wrongdoings in the Church and in the world. We must therefore start where we can, with those who are around us. “Now is the acceptable time; see, now is the day of salvation!” (2 Cor 6:2). Let us therefore embrace the missionary significance of Lent, not in a way that distracts us from our individual efforts, but in a way that introduces this season to the many restless people of good will who are seeking authentic ways to renew their lives, within the context of the Kingdom of God and his justice.
“Why should it be said among the peoples, ‘Where is their God?’” (Joel 2:17). The prophet’s question is a warning. It also reminds us of what others think about us, especially those who observe the people of God from the outside. Lent urges us towards a change of direction — conversion — that makes our proclamation more credible.
Sixty years ago, a few weeks after the conclusion of the Second Vatican Council, Saint Paul VI decided to celebrate the Rite of Ashes publicly during a General Audience in Saint Peter’s Basilica, so that the gesture that we are about to perform today would be visible to all. He spoke of it as a “severe and striking penitential ceremony” (Paul VI, General Audience, 23 February 1966) that defies common sense and at the same time responds to the demands of our culture. He said: “In our own day we may ask ourselves whether this pedagogy is still understandable. We answer in the affirmative, because it is a realistic pedagogy. It is a severe reminder of the truth. It brings us to an accurate perception of our existence and our destiny.”
Paul VI said that this “penitential pedagogy surprises modern man in two ways”: the first is in “his tremendous capacity for delusion, self-suggestion and systematic self-deception about the reality of life and its values.” The second aspect is “the fundamental pessimism” that Paul VI discovered everywhere: “Most of the material offered to us today by philosophy, literature and entertainment,” he said, “concludes by proclaiming the inevitable vanity of everything, the immense sadness of life, the metaphysics of the absurd and of nothingness. This material is a vindication of the use of ashes.”
Today, we can recognise that his words were prophetic as we perceive in the ashes imposed on us the weight of a world that is ablaze, of entire cities destroyed by war. This is also reflected in the ashes of international law and justice among peoples, the ashes of entire ecosystems and harmony among peoples, the ashes of critical thinking and ancient local wisdom, the ashes of that sense of the sacred that dwells in every creature.
“Where is their God?” the peoples ask themselves. Yes, dear friends, history, and even more, our own conscience, asks us to call death for what it is, and to carry its marks within us while also bearing witness to the resurrection. We recognise our sins so that we can be converted; this is itself a sign and testimony of Resurrection. Indeed, it means that we will not remain among the ashes, but will rise up and rebuild. Then the Easter Triduum, which we will celebrate as the summit of the Lenten journey, will unleash all its beauty and meaning. This will take place if we participate, through penance, in the passage from death to life, from powerlessness to the possibilities of God.
The ancient and contemporary martyrs shine as pioneers on our journey towards Easter. The ancient Roman tradition of the Lenten stations — which begins today with the first station — is instructive: it refers both to moving, as pilgrims, and to stopping, statio, at the “memories” of the Martyrs, on which stand the basilicas of Rome. Is this not perhaps an invitation to follow in the footsteps of the admirable witnesses to the faith, who can now be found throughout the world? Let us remember the places, stories and names of those who have chosen the way of the Beatitudes and lived them out to the end. Their lives are countless seeds that, even when they seemed to be scattered, were buried in the earth and prepared the abundant harvest that we are called to gather. Lent, as we have seen in the Gospel reading, frees us from wanting to be seen at all costs (cf. Mt 6:2, 5, 16), and teaches us instead to see what is being born, what is growing, and urges us to serve it. It is the profound harmony that is established with the God of life, our Father and the Father of all, in the secret of those who fast, pray and love. Let us redirect, with sobriety and joy, our entire lives and hearts towards God.
18.02.26 m
Dear brothers and sisters, good morning and welcome!
When the Second Vatican Council, to whose documents we are dedicating the catecheses, wanted to describe the Church, it was concerned first and foremost with explaining where its origins lie. In order to do so, in the Dogmatic Constitution Lumen gentium, approved on 21 November 1964, it drew the term “mystery” from the Letters of Saint Paul. By choosing this word, he did not mean to say that the Church is something obscure or incomprehensible, as is commonly thought when the word “mystery” is heard. It is exactly the opposite: indeed, when Saint Paul uses the word, especially in the Letter to the Ephesians, he wishes to indicate a reality that was previously hidden and is now revealed.
It refers to God’s plan, which has a purpose: to unify all creatures thanks to the reconciliatory action of Jesus Christ, an action that was accomplished in his death on the cross. This is experienced first of all in the assembly gathered for the liturgical celebration: there, differences are relativised, and what counts is being together because we are drawn by the Love of Christ, who broke down the wall of separation between people and social groups (cf. Eph 2:14). For Saint Paul, mystery is the manifestation of what God wanted to achieve for the whole of humanity, and is made known in local experiences, which gradually widen to include all human beings and even the cosmos.
The condition of humanity is one of fragmentation that human beings are unable to repair, even though the tendency towards unity dwells in their heart. The action of Jesus Christ enters into this condition through the power of the Holy Spirit, and overcomes the powers of division and the Divider himself. Gathering together to celebrate, having believed in the proclamation of the Gospel, is experienced as an attraction exerted by the cross of Christ, which is the supreme manifestation of God’s love. It is feeling called together by God: this is why the term ekklesía is used, that is, an assembly of people who recognise that they have been summoned together. So, there is a certain coincidence between this mystery and the Church: the Church is the mystery made perceptible.
This convocation, precisely because it is brought about by God, cannot however be limited to a group of people, but rather is destined to become the experience of all human beings. Therefore, the Second Vatican Council, at the beginning of the Constitution Lumen gentium, states that: “the Church is in Christ like a sacrament or as a sign and instrument both of a very closely knit union with God and of the unity of the whole human race” (no. 1). With the use of the term “sacrament” and the consequent explanation, it is intended to indicate that the Church is an expression of what God wants to accomplish in the history of humanity; therefore, by looking at the Church, we can to some extent grasp God’s plan, the mystery. In this sense, the Church is a sign. In addition, the term “instrument” is added to the term “sacrament”, precisely to show that the Church is an active sign. Indeed, when God works in history, he involves in his activity the people who are the objects of his action. It is through the Church that God achieves the aim of bringing people to him and uniting them with one another.
Union with God finds its reflection in the union of human beings. This is the experience of salvation. It is not a coincidence that in the Constitution Lumen gentium, in Chapter 7, dedicated to the eschatological nature of the pilgrim Church, again uses the description of the Church as a sacrament, with the specification “of salvation”: “Christ, having been lifted up from the earth has drawn all to Himself (cf. Jn 12:32 gr.). Rising from the dead (cf. Rom 6:9) He sent His life-giving Spirit upon His disciples and through Him has established His Body which is the Church as the universal sacrament of salvation. Sitting at the right hand of the Father, He is continually active in the world that He might lead men to the Church and through it join them to Himself and that He might make them partakers of His glorious life by nourishing them with His own Body and Blood”.
This text enables us to understand the relationship between the unifying action of the Pasch of Jesus, which is the mystery of the passion, death and resurrection, and the identity of the Church. At the same time, it makes us grateful to belong to the Church, the body of the risen Christ and the one pilgrim people of God journeying through history, which lives as a sanctifying presence in the midst of a still fragmented humanity, as an effective sign of unity and reconciliation among peoples.
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, Scotland, Ireland, Finland, the Netherlands, the Philippines and the United States of America. I greet in particular the students of the Loyola University of Chicago Rome Centre. As we begin our Lenten journey today, let us ask the Lord to grant us the gift of true conversion of heart so that we may better respond to his love for us and share that love with those around us. Upon all of you and your families, I invoke the joy and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ. God bless you all!
Finally, my thoughts turn to young people, the sick, and newlyweds. At the beginning of Lent, I urge you to live this liturgical season with an intense spirit of prayer, so that, interiorly renewed, you may reach the celebration of the great mystery of Christ's Easter, the supreme revelation of God's merciful love.
My blessing to everyone!
18.02.26 ga
Listening and Fasting:
Lent as a Time of Conversion
Dear brothers and sisters,
Lent is a time in which the Church, guided by a sense of maternal care, invites us to place the mystery of God back in the centre of our lives, in order to find renewal in our faith and keep our hearts from being consumed by the anxieties and distractions of daily life.
Every path towards conversion begins by allowing the word of God to touch our hearts and welcoming it with a docile spirit. There is a relationship between the word, our acceptance of it and the transformation it brings about. For this reason, the Lenten journey is a welcome opportunity to heed the voice of the Lord and renew our commitment to following Christ, accompanying him on the road to Jerusalem, where the mystery of his passion, death and resurrection will be fulfilled.
Listening
This year, I would first like to consider the importance of making room for the word through listening. The willingness to listen is the first way we demonstrate our desire to enter into relationship with someone.
In revealing himself to Moses in the burning bush, God himself teaches us that listening is one of his defining characteristics: “I have observed the misery of my people who are in Egypt; I have heard their cry” (Ex 3:7). Hearing the cry of the oppressed is the beginning of a story of liberation in which the Lord calls Moses, sending him to open a path of salvation for his children who have been reduced to slavery.
Our God is one who seeks to involve us. Even today he shares with us what is in his heart. Because of this, listening to the word in the liturgy teaches us to listen to the truth of reality. In the midst of the many voices present in our personal lives and in society, Sacred Scripture helps us to recognise and respond to the cry of those who are anguished and suffering. In order to foster this inner openness to listening, we must allow God to teach us how to listen as he does. We must recognise that “the condition of the poor is a cry that, throughout human history, constantly challenges our lives, societies, political and economic systems, and, not least, the Church.” [1]
Fasting
If Lent is a time for listening, fasting is a concrete way to prepare ourselves to receive the word of God. Abstaining from food is an ancient ascetic practice that is essential on the path of conversion. Precisely because it involves the body, fasting makes it easier to recognise what we “hunger” for and what we deem necessary for our sustenance. Moreover, it helps us to identify and order our “appetites,” keeping our hunger and thirst for justice alive and freeing us from complacency. Thus, it teaches us to pray and act responsibly towards our neighbour.
With spiritual insight, Saint Augustine helps us to understand the tension between the present moment and the future fulfilment that characterises this custody of the heart. He observes that: “In the course of earthly life, it is incumbent upon men and women to hunger and thirst for justice, but to be satisfied belongs to the next life. Angels are satisfied with this bread, this food. The human race, on the other hand, hungers for it; we are all drawn to it in our desire. This reaching out in desire expands the soul and increases its capacity.” [2] Understood in this way, fasting not only permits us to govern our desire, purifying it and making it freer, but also to expand it, so that it is directed towards God and doing good.
However, in order to practice fasting in accordance with its evangelical character and avoid the temptation that leads to pride, it must be lived in faith and humility. It must be grounded in communion with the Lord, because “those who are unable to nourish themselves with the word of God do not fast properly.” [3] As a visible sign of our inner commitment to turn away from sin and evil with the help of grace, fasting must also include other forms of self-denial aimed at helping us to acquire a more sober lifestyle, since “austerity alone makes the Christian life strong and authentic.” [4]
In this regard, I would like to invite you to a very practical and frequently unappreciated form of abstinence: that of refraining from words that offend and hurt our neighbour. Let us begin by disarming our language, avoiding harsh words and rash judgement, refraining from slander and speaking ill of those who are not present and cannot defend themselves. Instead, let us strive to measure our words and cultivate kindness and respect in our families, among our friends, at work, on social media, in political debates, in the media and in Christian communities. In this way, words of hatred will give way to words of hope and peace.
Together
Finally, Lent emphasises the communal aspect of listening to the word and fasting. The Bible itself underlines this dimension in multiple ways. For example, the Book of Nehemiah recounts how the people gathered to listen to the public reading of the Law, preparing to profess their faith and worship through fasting, so as to renew the covenant with God (cf. 9:1-3).
Likewise, our parishes, families, ecclesial groups and religious communities are called to undertake a shared journey during Lent, in which listening to the word of God, as well as to the cry of the poor and of the earth, becomes part of our community life, and fasting a foundation for sincere repentance. In this context, conversion refers not only to one’s conscience, but also to the quality of our relationships and dialogue. It means allowing ourselves to be challenged by reality and recognising what truly guides our desires — both within our ecclesial communities and as regards humanity’s thirst for justice and reconciliation.
Dear friends, let us ask for the grace of a Lent that leads us to greater attentiveness to God and to the least among us. Let us ask for the strength that comes from the type of fasting that also extends to our use of language, so that hurtful words may diminish and give way to a greater space for the voice of others. Let us strive to make our communities places where the cry of those who suffer finds welcome, and listening opens paths towards liberation, making us ready and eager to contribute to building a civilisation of love.
I impart my heartfelt blessing upon all of you and your Lenten journey.
[1] Apostolic Exhortation Dilexi Te (4 October 2025), 9.
[2] Augustine The Usefulness of Fasting, 1, 1.
[3] Benedict XVI, Catechesis (9 March 2011).
[4] Paul VI, Catechesis (8 February1978).
From the Vatican, 5 February 2026, Memorial of Saint Agatha, Virgin and Martyr
13.02.26
Dear brothers and sisters,
It is a source of great joy for me to be here and to experience with your community the gesture from which “Sunday” takes its name. It is “the Lord's Day” because the Risen Jesus comes among us, listens to us and speaks to us, nourishes us and sends us forth. Thus, in today’s Gospel, Jesus announces his “new law”: not only a teaching, but the strength to put it into practice. It is the grace of the Holy Spirit that writes indelibly in our hearts and brings to fulfilment the commandments of the old covenant (cf. Mt 5:17-37).
Through the Decalogue, after the exodus from Egypt, God had established a covenant with his people, offering them a plan for life and a path to salvation. The “Ten Words” are thus to be understood within the context of the journey of liberation, thanks to which a group of divided and oppressed tribes was transformed into a united and free people. Those commandments thus appear, in the long journey through the desert, as the light that shows the way; and their observance is understood and fulfilled not so much as a formal fulfilment of precepts, but as an act of love, of grateful and trusting correspondence to the Lord of the covenant. Therefore, the law given by God to his people is not in contrast with their freedom, but on the contrary is the condition for its flourishing.
Thus, the first Reading, taken from the book of Sirach (cf. 15, 16-21), and Psalm 118, with which we sang our response, invite us to see in the Lord’s commandments not an oppressive law, but his pedagogy for humanity seeking fullness of life and freedom.
In this regard, at the beginning of the Pastoral Constitution Gaudium et spes, we find one of the most beautiful expressions of the Second Vatican Council, in which we can almost the beating of God’s heart through the heart of the Church. The Council says: “The joys and the hopes, the griefs and the anxieties of the men of this age, especially those who are poor or in any way afflicted, these are the joys and hopes, the griefs and anxieties of the followers of Christ. Indeed, nothing genuinely human fails to raise an echo in their hearts” (Vatican Ecumenical Council II, Pastoral Constitution Gaudium et spes, 1).
This prophecy of salvation is found in abundance in the preaching of Jesus, which begins on the shores of the Sea of Galilee, with the proclamation of the Beatitudes (cf. Mt 5:1-12), and continues by demonstrating the authentic and full sense of God’s law. The Lord says: “You have heard that it was said to the men of old, ‘You shall not kill; and whoever kills shall be liable to judgment. But I say to you that every one who is angry with his brother shall be liable to judgment; whoever insults his brother shall be liable to the council, and whoever says, ‘You fool!’ shall be liable to the hell of fire” (Mt 5:21-22). In this way, he indicates fidelity to God based on respect and on care for others in their inviolable sacredness as the way to human fulfilment, to be cultivated first and foremost in the heart, even before in deeds and words. Indeed, it is there that the most noble sentiments are born, but also the most painful profanations: closed-mindedness, envy, jealousy, so that those who think badly of their brother, harbouring evil feelings towards him, are as if they were already killing him in their hearts. It is no coincidence that Saint John says: “Any one who hates his brother is a murderer” (1 Jn 3:15).
How true are these words! And when we too happen to judge others and regard them with contempt, let us remember that the evil we see in the world has its roots right there, where the heart becomes cold, hard and lacking in mercy.
We experience this here too, in Ostia where, unfortunately, violence exists and causes harm, sometimes taking hold among young people and adolescents, perhaps fuelled by substance abuse; or perpetrated by criminal organisations, which exploit people by involving them in their crimes and pursue unjust interests through illegal and immoral means.
In the face of these phenomena, I invite you all, as a parish community, together with other virtuous organisations working in these neighbourhoods, to continue to give yourselves generously and courageously to spread the good seed of the Gospel in your streets and homes. Do not resign yourselves to the culture of abuse and injustice. On the contrary, spread respect and harmony, beginning with the disarming of language, and then investing energy and resources in education, especially for children and young people. Yes, may they learn honesty, hospitality and love that transcends boundaries in the parish; may they learn to help not only those who reciprocate and greet not only those who greet them, but to reach out to everyone freely and generously; may they learn consistency between faith and life, as Jesus teaches us when he says: ‘If you are offering your gift at the altar, and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift” (Mt 5:23-24).
May this, dear friends, be the goal of your efforts and activities, for the good of those near and far, so that even those who are slaves to evil may encounter, through you, the God of love, the only one who frees the heart and makes us truly happy.
Pope Benedict XV, a hundred and ten years ago, wanted this parish to be dedicated to Saint Mary Queen of Peace. He did so at the height of the first world war, thinking also of your community as a ray of light in the leaden sky of war. Unfortunately, with the passing of time, many clouds still darken the world, with the spread of ways of thinking contrary to the Gospel, which exalt the supremacy of the strongest, encourage arrogance and fuel the seduction of victory at any cost, deaf to the cries of those who suffer and those who are defenceless.
Let us oppose this trend with the disarming power of meekness, continuing to ask for peace and, welcoming and cultivating the gift, with tenacity and humility. Saint Augustine taught that “It is harder to praise peace than to possess her… If we wish to possess her, we can do so without the slightest effort” (Sermon 357, 1). And this is because our peace is Christ, which is won by letting ourselves be won over and transformed by Him, opening our hearts, and, with His grace, opening them to those whom He places on our path.
Do this too, dear sisters and dear brothers, day by day. Do it together, as a community, with the help of Mary, Queen of Peace. May She, Mother of God and our Mother, keep us and protect us always. Amen.
15.02.26 m
Dear brothers and sisters, happy Sunday!
Today we hear a part of the Gospel passage of the “Sermon on the Mount” (cf. Mt 5:17-37). After having proclaimed the Beatitudes, Jesus invites us to enter into the newness of the Kingdom of God. In order to guide us on this journey, he reveals the true meaning of the precepts of the Law of Moses. They are not meant to satisfy an external religious need of feeling “righteous” before God, but to bring us into a relationship of love with God and with our brothers and sisters. For this reason, Jesus says that he did not come to abolish the Law, but to bring it to fulfilment (cf. v. 17).
The Law is fulfilled precisely by love, which brings its profound meaning and ultimate purpose to completion. We are called to achieve a righteousness that “exceeds” (cf. v. 20) that of the scribes and Pharisees, a righteousness that is not limited to observing the commandments, but that opens us to love and compels us to love. Jesus examines some of the precepts of the Law that refer to concrete cases, and uses linguistic formulas called antinomies to show the difference between formal religious righteousness and the righteousness of the Kingdom of God: on the one hand, “You have heard that it was said to the men of old,” and on the other, Jesus affirms, “But I say to you” (cf. vv. 21-37).
This approach is very important, because it shows that the Law was given to Moses and the prophets as a way to come to know God and his plan for us and for history or, to use an expression of Saint Paul, as a pedagogue who guided us to him (cf. Gal 3:23-25). But now, God himself, in the person of Jesus, has come among us, bringing the Law to fulfilment, making us children of the Father and giving us the grace to enter into a relationship with him as children and as brothers and sisters among ourselves.
Brothers and sisters, Jesus teaches us that true righteousness consists in love and that, within every precept of the Law, we must learn to identify a call to love. Indeed, it is not sufficient to refrain from killing a person physically if one then kills with words and undermines the dignity of the other (cf. Mt 5:21-22). Similarly, it is not enough to be technically faithful to one’s spouse and not commit adultery if the relationship lacks mutual tenderness, listening, respect, care for the other and shared goals (cf. vv. 27-28, 31-32). We could add other examples to the ones that Jesus himself offers us. The Gospel offers us this valuable teaching: minimal righteousness is not enough; great love is needed.
Let us invoke together the Virgin Mary, who gave Christ to the world, the One who fulfils the Law and the plan of salvation. May she intercede for us, help us to understand better the Kingdom of God and to live out its call for righteousness.
Dear brothers and sisters,
I express my closeness to the people of Madagascar who have been impacted by two cyclones, flooding and landslides within a short period of time. I pray for the victims, their families and for all who have suffered serious damage.
In the coming days, millions of people in East Asia and other parts of the world will celebrate the Lunar New Year. May this joyful celebration strengthen family ties and friendships, bring peace to homes and society and provide an opportunity to look to the future together and to build peace and prosperity for all. With my best wishes for the New Year, I express to everyone my affection and invoke the Lord’s blessing upon each one of you.
I am pleased to greet all of you, Romans and pilgrims, especially the faithful from the parish of San Lorenzo in Cadiz, Spain, and those from Marche.
I also welcome the students and teachers from All Saints Catholic School in Sheffield and Thornleigh Salesian College in Bolton, England; the School of Vila Pouca de Aguiar in Portugal; the Colegio Altasierra in Seville and the “Edith Stein” School in Schillingfürst, Germany.
I greet the participants of the national conference of the Catholic Students Movement (FIDAE); the candidates preparing for Confirmation from Almenno San Salvatore and those from Lugo, Rosaro, Stallavena and Alcenago; the children of the “San Giuseppe” School in Bassano del Grappa and the Salesian Institute “Sant’Ambrogio” in Milan; and the young people of Petosino, Solbiate and Cagno.
I wish all of you a happy Sunday.
15.02.26 a
Pope Leo
Message for the World Day of the Sick 11.02.26
The compassion of the Samaritan:
loving by bearing another’s pain
Dear brothers and sisters,
The thirty-fourth World Day of the Sick will be solemnly celebrated in Chiclayo, Peru, on 11 February 2026. For this occasion, I would recommend reflecting once again on the figure of the Good Samaritan, for he is always relevant and essential for rediscovering the beauty of charity and the social dimension of compassion. This reflection further directs our attention towards the needy and all those who suffer, especially the sick.
We are all familiar with the moving account found in the Gospel of Saint Luke (cf. Lk 10:25-37). Jesus responds to a scholar of the law, who asks him to identify the neighbour he must love, with this story: a man travelling from Jerusalem to Jericho was attacked by robbers and left for dead. While a priest and a Levite passed him by, a Samaritan took pity on him, bandaged his wounds, took him to an inn and provided for his care. I have chosen to reflect on this biblical passage through the lens of the Encyclical Fratelli Tutti, written by my beloved predecessor Pope Francis. There, compassion and mercy towards those in need are not reduced to a merely individual effort, but are realised through relationships: with our brothers and sisters in need, with those who care for them and, ultimately, with God who gives us his love.
1. The gift of encounter: the joy of offering closeness and presence
We live immersed in a culture of speed, immediacy and haste – a culture of “discard” and indifference that prevents us from pausing along the way and drawing near to acknowledge the needs and suffering that surround us. In the parable, when the Samaritan saw the wounded man, he did not “pass by.” Instead, he looked upon him with an open and attentive gaze – the very gaze of Jesus – which led him to act with human and compassionate closeness. The Samaritan “stopped, approached the man and cared for him personally, even spending his own money to provide for his needs… [Above all] he gave him his time.” [1] Jesus does not merely teach us who our neighbour is, but rather how to become a neighbour; in other words, how we can draw close to others. [2] In this respect, we can affirm with Saint Augustine that the Lord did not intend to show us who that man’s neighbour was, but rather to whom he should become a neighbour. Indeed, no one is truly a neighbour until they freely draw near to another. Thus, the one who became a neighbour was the one who showed mercy. [3]
Love is not passive; it goes out to meet the other. Being a neighbour is not determined by physical or social proximity, but by the decision to love. This is why Christians become neighbours to those who suffer, following the example of Christ, the true divine Samaritan who drew near to a wounded humanity. These are not mere gestures of philanthropy, but signs through which we perceive that personal participation in another’s suffering involves the gift of oneself. It means going beyond the simple satisfaction of needs, so that our very person becomes part of the gift. [4] This kind of charity is necessarily nourished by an encounter with Christ, who gave himself for us out of love. Saint Francis expressed this beautifully when, speaking of his encounter with lepers, he said: “The Lord himself led me among them,” [5] because through them he had discovered the sweet joy of loving.
The gift of encounter flows from our union with Jesus Christ. We recognise him as the Good Samaritan who has brought us eternal salvation, and we make him present whenever we reach out to a wounded brother or sister. Saint Ambrose said: “Since no one is more truly our neighbour than he who has healed our wounds, let us love him as Lord and also as neighbour; for nothing is so close as the head to its members. Let us also love those who imitate Christ; let us love those who suffer due to the poverty of others, for the sake of the unity of the Body.” [6] “To be one in the One” – through closeness, presence, and love received and shared – is to rejoice, like Saint Francis, in the sweetness of having encountered the Lord.
2. The shared mission of caring for the sick
Saint Luke continues, noting that the Samaritan “was moved with pity.” Compassion, in this sense, implies a profound emotion that compels us to act. It is a feeling that springs from within and leads to a committed response to another’s suffering. In this parable, compassion is the defining characteristic of active love; it is neither theoretical nor merely sentimental, but manifests itself through concrete gestures. The Samaritan drew near, tended the wounds, took charge and provided care. Notably, he does not act in isolation: “The Samaritan discovered an innkeeper who would care for the man; we too are called to unite as a family that is stronger than the sum of small individual members.” [7] In my experience as a missionary and bishop in Peru, I have personally witnessed many who show mercy and compassion in the spirit of the Samaritan and the innkeeper. Family members, neighbours, healthcare workers, those engaged in pastoral care for the sick, and many others stop along the way to draw near, heal, support and accompany those in need. By offering what they have, they give compassion a social dimension. This experience, occurring within a network of relationships, transcends mere individual commitment. For this reason, in the Apostolic Exhortation Dilexi Te , I referred to the care of the sick not only as an “important part” of the Church’s mission, but as an authentic “ecclesial action” (n. 49). I quoted Saint Cyprian to illustrate how this dimension serves as a measure of a society’s health: “This pestilence and plague, which seems so horrible and deadly, searches out the righteousness of each one, and examines the minds of the human race, to see whether the healthy serve the sick; whether relatives love each other with sincerity; whether masters have pity on their sick servants; whether doctors do not abandon the sick who beg for help.” [8]
“To be one in the One” means truly recognising that we are members of a single Body that brings the Lord’s compassion to the suffering of all people, each according to our own vocation. [9] Moreover, the pain that moves us to compassion is not the pain of a stranger; it is the pain of a member of our own Body, to whom Christ our Head commands us attend, for the good of all. In this sense, our service is identified with Christ’s own suffering and, when offered in a Christian spirit, hastens the fulfilment of the Saviour’s prayer for the unity of all. [10]
3. Always driven by love for God, to encounter ourselves and our neighbour
In the double commandment, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbour as yourself” ( Lk 10:27), we recognise the primacy of love for God and its direct consequences for every dimension of human love and relationship. “Love for our neighbour is tangible proof of the authenticity of our love for God, as the Apostle John attests: ‘No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God lives in us, and his love is perfected in us… God is love, and those who abide in love abide in God, and God abides in them’ ( 1 Jn 4:12, 16).” [11] Although the object of this love differs – God, neighbour and oneself – and can be understood as distinct expressions of love, they remain fundamentally inseparable. [12] The primacy of divine love implies that human action is carried out not for self-interest or reward, but as a manifestation of a love that transcends ritual norms and find expression in authentic worship. To serve one’s neighbour is to love God through deeds. [13]
This perspective also allows us to grasp the true meaning of loving ourselves. It means setting aside any attempt to base our self-esteem or sense of dignity on worldly stereotypes – such as success, career, status or family background [14] – and recovering our proper place before God and neighbour. Benedict XVI observed, “as a spiritual being, the human creature is defined through interpersonal relations. The more authentically he or she lives these relations, the more his or her own personal identity matures. It is not by isolation that man establishes his worth, but by placing himself in relation with others and with God.” [15]
Dear brothers and sisters, “the true remedy for humanity’s wounds is a style of life based on fraternal love, which has its root in love of God.”[16] I genuinely hope that our Christian lifestyle will always reflect this fraternal, “Samaritan” spirit – one that is welcoming, courageous, committed and supportive, rooted in our union with God and our faith in Jesus Christ. Enkindled by this divine love, we will surely be able to give of ourselves for the good of all who suffer, especially our brothers and sisters who are sick, elderly or afflicted.
Let us raise our prayers to the Blessed Virgin Mary, Health of the Sick, asking her to assist all who suffer and are in need of compassion, consolation and a listening ear. Let us seek her intercession with this ancient prayer, that has been invoked in families for those living with illness and pain:
Sweet Mother, do not part from me. Turn not your eyes away from me. Walk with me at every moment and never leave me alone.
You who always protect me as a true Mother, obtain for me the blessing of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
I cordially impart my Apostolic Blessing to all who are sick, to their families and to those who care for them – healthcare workers and pastoral workers alike – and in a special way to all participating in this World Day of the Sick.
[1] Francis, Encyclical Letter Fratelli Tutti (3 October 2020), 63.
[2] Cf. ibid., 80-82.
[3] Cf. Saint Augustine, Serm. 171, 2; 179/A, 7.
[4] Cf. Benedict XVI, Encyclical Letter Deus Caritas Est (25 December 2005), 34; Saint John Paul II, Apostolic Letter Salvifici Doloris (11 February 1984), 28.
[5] Saint Francis of Assisi, The Testament, 2: Fonti Francescane, 110.
[6] Saint Ambrose, Treatise on the Gospel of Saint Luke, VII, 84.
[7] Francis, Encyclical Letter Fratelli Tutti (3 October 2020), 78.
[8] Saint Cyprian, De mortalitate, 16.
[9] Cf. Saint John Paul II, Apostolic Letter Salvifici Doloris (11 February 1984), 24.
[10] Cf. ibid., 31.
[11] Apostolic Exhortation Dilexi Te (4 October 2025), 26.
[12] Cf. ibid.
[13] Cf. Francis, Encyclical Letter Fratelli Tutti (3 October 2020), 79.
[14] Cf. ibid., 101.
[15] Benedict XVI, Encyclical Letter Caritas in Veritate (29 June 2009), 53.
[16] Francis, Message to Participants in the 33rd International Youth Festival (MLADIFEST), Medjugorje, 1-6 August 2022 (16 July 2022).
From the Vatican, 13 January 2026
LEO PP. XIV
11.02.26
Dear brothers and sisters, good morning and welcome!
In today’s catechesis we will look at the profound and vital link that exists between the Word of God and the Church, a bond expressed by the Conciliar Constitution Dei Verbum, in the sixth chapter. The Church is the rightful home of Sacred Scripture. Under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, the Bible arose from the people of God, and is destined for the people of God. In the Christian community it has, so to speak, its habitat: indeed, in the life and the faith of the Church it finds the space where it can reveal its meaning and manifest its power.
Vatican Council II reminds us that “the Church has always venerated the divine Scriptures just as she venerates the body of the Lord, since especially in the sacred liturgy, she unceasingly receives and offers to the faithful the bread of life from the table both of God’s word and of Christ’s body”. Furthermore, “she has always maintained them, and continues to do so, together with sacred tradition, as the supreme rule of faith” (Dei Verbum, 21).
The Church never ceases to reflect on the value of the Sacred Scriptures. After the Council, a very important moment in this regard was the Ordinary General Assembly of the Synod of Bishops on the theme “The Word of God in the life and mission of the Church” in October 2008. Pope Benedict XVI gathered its fruit in the post-Synodal Exhortation Verbum Domini (30 September 2010), in which he affirms: “The intrinsic link between the word and faith makes clear that authentic biblical hermeneutics can only be had within the faith of the Church, which has its paradigm in Mary’s fiat… the primary setting for scriptural interpretation is the life of the Church” (no. 29).
In the ecclesial community, Scripture therefore finds the sphere in which to carry out its particular task and achieve its purpose: to make Christ known and to open dialogue with God. Indeed, “ignorance of the Scriptures is ignorance of Christ”. [1] This well-known expression of Saint Jerome reminds us of the ultimate purpose of reading and meditating on the Scriptures: to get to know Christ and, through Him, to enter into a relationship with God, a relationship that can be understood as a conversation, a dialogue. And the Constitution Dei Verbum presented the Revelation to us precisely as a dialogue, in which God speaks to humans as though to friends (cf. DV, 2). This occurs when we read the Bible with an inner attitude of prayer: God then comes towards us and enters into conversation with us.
The Sacred Scripture, entrusted to the Church and preserved and explained by her, performs an active role: indeed, with its efficacy and power it sustains and invigorates the Christian community. All the faithful are called to drink from this wellspring, first and foremost in the celebration of the Eucharist and the other Sacraments. Love for the Sacred Scriptures and familiarity with them must guide those who carry out the ministry of the Word: bishops, priests, deacons, catechists. The work of exegetes and those who practise biblical sciences is invaluable, and Scriptures have a central place in theology, which finds its foundation and soul in the Word of God.
The Church ardently desires that the Word of God may reach every one of her members and nurture their journey of faith. But the Word of God also propels the Church beyond herself; it opens her continually to the mission towards everyone. Indeed, we live surrounded by so many words, but how many of these are empty! At times we even listen to wise words, which do not however affect our ultimate destiny. On the contrary, the Word of God responds to our thirst for meaning, for the truth about our life. It is the only Word that is always new: revealing the mystery of God to us, it is inexhaustible, it never ceases to offer its riches.
Dear friends, living in the Church one learns that the Sacred Scripture is totally relative to Jesus Christ, and one experiences that this is the deep reason for its value and its power. Christ is the living Word of the Father, the Word of God made man. All the Scriptures proclaim his Person and his saving presence, for each one of us and for all humanity. Let us therefore open our hearts and minds in order to receive this gift, following the example of Mary, Mother of the Church.
[1] S. Girolamo, Comm. in Is., Prol.: PL 24, 17 B.
I greet the English speaking pilgrims and visitors taking part in today’s audience, in particular the groups from England, the Netherlands, Sweden, Israel and the United States of America, Next Wednesday, the season of Lent begins. It is a time for deepening our knowledge and love of the Lord, for examining our hearts and our lives, as well as refocusing our gaze on Jesus and his love for us. May these coming days of prayer, fasting and almsgiving be a source of strength as we daily strive to take up our own crosses and follow Christ. Upon you and your families, I invoke the joy and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ. God bless you!
Finally, my thoughts turn to the young people, the sick, and newlyweds. May Our Lady of Lourdes, whom we celebrate today, accompany you maternally, intercede for you before God, and obtain for you the graces to sustain you on your journey.
At the end of the Audience, I will go to the Lourdes Grotto in the Vatican Gardens and light a candle, a sign of my prayer for all the sick, whom today, World Day of the Sick, we remember with particular affection.
11.02.26
Dear brothers and sisters, happy Sunday!
After proclaiming the Beatitudes, Jesus addresses those who put them into practice, saying that thanks to them the earth is no longer the same and the world is no longer in darkness. “You are the salt of the earth... You are the light of the world” (Mt 5:13-14). Indeed, it is genuine joy that gives flavor to life and brings to light something that was not there before. This joy springs from a way of life, a way of inhabiting the earth and of living together that must be desired and chosen. It is the life that shines in Jesus, the new flavour of his words and deeds. After encountering Jesus in his poverty of spirit, his meekness and simplicity of heart, his hunger and thirst for justice, which unlocks mercy and peace as powers of transformation and reconciliation, those who would distance themselves from all this seem bland and dull.
The prophet Isaiah lists concrete gestures that overcome injustice: sharing bread with the hungry, bringing the poor and homeless into our homes, clothing those we see to be naked, without neglecting our neighbours and those in our own homes (cf. 58:7). The prophet continues, “then shall your light break forth like the dawn, and your healing shall spring up speedily” (v. 8). On the one hand, there is light which cannot be hidden because it is as great as the sun that drives away the darkness every morning; on the other hand, there is a wound that was once burning and is now healing.
Indeed, it is painful to lose flavour and give up joy; yet it is possible to have this wound in one’s heart. Jesus seems to warn those who listen to him not to give up joy. Salt that has lost its flavour, he says, “is no longer good for anything, but is thrown out and trampled under foot” (Mt 5:13). How many people — perhaps we ourselves — feel like they are worthless or broken. It is as if their light has been hidden. Jesus, however, proclaims a God who will never throw us away, a Father who cares for our names and our uniqueness. Every wound, even the deepest, will be healed by welcoming the word of the Beatitudes and setting us back on the path of the Gospel.
Moreover, deeds of openness and attention to others will rekindle joy. At the same time, however, through their simplicity such gestures put us at odds with the world. Jesus himself was tempted in the desert to follow other paths, to assert his identity, to laud it and have the world at his feet. Yet he rejected the paths that would have caused him to lose his true flavour, the one we find every Sunday in the Bread that is broken, which is a life given and a silent love.
Brothers and sisters, let us be nourished and enlightened by communion with Jesus. Without any boasting, we will then be like a city set on a hill, not simply visible, but also inviting and welcoming: the city of God where everyone, deep down, desires to live and find peace. Let us now turn our gaze and our prayers to Mary, the Gate of Heaven, that she may help us to become and remain disciples of her Son.
Dear brothers and sisters,
Yesterday in Huércal-Overa, Spain, Father Salvatore Valera Parra was beatified. He was a parish priest completely devoted to his people, humble and generous in pastoral charity. His priestly example of focusing on what is essential can inspire today’s priests to be faithful in living each day with simplicity and asceticism.
It is with sorrow and concern that I learned of the recent attacks against various communities in Nigeria leading to a heavy loss of life. I express my prayerful closeness to all the victims of violence and terrorism. I likewise hope that the competent Authorities will continue to work with determination to ensure the safety and protection of the life of every citizen.
Today, the memorial of Saint Josephine Bakhita, we celebrate the World Day of Prayer and Reflection Against Human Trafficking. I thank the religious and all those who are committed to combating and eliminating current forms of slavery. Together with them, I say: peace begins with dignity!
I offer the assurance of my prayers to the people of Portugal, Morocco, Spain — especially Grazalema in Andalusia — and southern Italy, particularly Niscemi in Sicily, who have been affected by floods and landslides. I encourage the communities to remain united and supportive, with the maternal protection of the Virgin Mary.
Now, I welcome all of you: Romans, and pilgrims from Italy and various countries. I greet the faithful from Melilla, Murcia and Malaga, Spain; those from Belarus, Lithuania and Latvia; the students from Olivenza, Spain, and those preparing for Confirmation in Malta. I also greet the young people connected to us from three oratories in the Diocese of Brescia.
Let us continue to pray for peace. History teaches us that strategies of economic and military power do not give humanity a future. The future lies in respect and fraternity among peoples.
I wish all of you a happy Sunday.
08.02.26
Dear brothers and sisters, good morning and welcome!
The Conciliar Constitution Dei Verbum, on which we are reflecting during these weeks, indicates in the Sacred Scripture, read in the living Tradition of the Church, a privileged space for encounter where God continues to speak to the men and women of every time, so that, by listening, they can know him and love him. The biblical texts, however, were not written in a heavenly or superhuman language. Indeed, as daily life teaches us, two people who speak different languages cannot understand each other, cannot enter into dialogue, and are unable to establish a relationship. In some cases, making oneself to others is a first act of love. This is why God chooses to speak using human languages and thus, various authors, inspired by the Holy Spirit, have written the texts of Sacred Scripture. As the Conciliar document reminds us, “the words of God, expressed in human language, have been made like human discourse, just as the word of the eternal Father, when He took to Himself the flesh of human weakness, was in every way made like men” (DV, 13). Therefore, not only in its content, but also in its language, the Scripture reveals God’s merciful condescension towards men, and his desire to be close to them.
Throughout the course of Church history, the relationship between the divine Author and the human authors of the sacred texts has been studied. For several centuries, many theologians were concerned to defend the divine inspiration of the Sacred Scripture, almost considering the human authors merely as passive tools of the Holy Spirit. In more recent times, reflection has re-evaluated the contribution of hagiographers in the writing of sacred texts, to the point that the Conciliar document speaks of God as the principal “author” of Sacred Scripture, but also calls hagiographers “true authors” of the sacred books (cf. DV, 11). As a keen exegete of the last century observed, “to reduce human activity to that of a mere amanuensis is not to glorify divine activity”.[1] God never mortifies human beings and their potential!
If, therefore, the Scripture is the word of God in human words, any approach to it that neglects or denies one of these two dimensions proves to be partial. It follows that a correct interpretation of the sacred texts cannot dispense with the historic environment in which they developed and the literary forms that were used; on the contrary, to renounce the study of the human words that God used risks leading to fundamentalist or spiritualist readings of the Scripture, which betray its meaning. This principle also applies to the proclamation of the Word of God: if it loses touch with reality, with human hopes and sufferings, if an incomprehensible language is used, uncommunicative or anachronistic, it is ineffective. In every age, the Church is called to re-propose the Word of God in a language capable of being embodied in history and reaching hearts. As Pope Francis reminds us, “Whenever we make the effort to return to the source and to recover the original freshness of the Gospel, new avenues arise, new paths of creativity open up, with different forms of expression, more eloquent signs and words with new meaning for today’s world”. [2]
Equally reductive, on the other hand, is a reading of Scripture that neglects its divine origin and ends up understanding it as a mere human teaching, as something to be studied simply from a technical point of view or as a text "only of the past”.[3] Rather, especially when proclaimed in the context of the liturgy, Scripture is intended to speak to today's believers, to touch their present lives with their problems, to enlighten the steps to be taken and the decisions to be made. This becomes possible only when believers read and interpret the sacred texts under the guidance of the same Spirit who inspired them (cf. DV, 12).
In this regard, the Scripture serves to nurture the life and charity of believers, as Saint Augustine recalls: “Whoever … thinks that he understands the Holy Scriptures … but puts such an interpretation upon them as does not tend to build up this twofold love of God and our neighbour, does not yet understand them as he ought”. [4] The divine origin of the Scripture also recalls that the Gospel, entrusted to the witness of the baptised, despite embracing all the dimensions of life and reality, transcends them: it cannot be reduced to a mere philanthropic or social message, but is the joyful proclamation of the full and eternal life that God has given to us in Jesus.
Dear brothers and sisters, let us thank the Lord because, in his goodness, he ensures our lives do not lack the essential nourishment of his Word, and let us pray that our words, and even more so our lives, do not obscure the love of God that is narrated in them.
[1] L. Alonso Schökel, La parola ispirata. La Bibbia alla luce della scienza del linguaggio ( The Inspired Word. The Scripture in the Light of Language and Literature), Brescia 1987, 70.
[2] Francis, Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii gaudium (24 November 2013), 11.
[3] Benedict XVI, Post-synodal Apostolic Exhortation Verbum Domini (30 September 2010), 35.
[4] St. Augustine, De doctrina christiana I, 36, 40.
I urge everyone to support with prayer our brothers and sisters in Ukraine, who are being severely tested by the consequences of the bombings which have resumed, also striking energy infrastructure. I would like to express my gratitude for the solidarity initiatives promoted by Catholic dioceses in Poland and other countries, which are working to help the people endure this time of extreme cold.
Tomorrow marks the expiry of the New START Treaty signed in 2010 by the Presidents of the United States and the Russian Federation, which represented a significant step in containing the proliferation of nuclear weapons. In renewing my encouragement for every constructive effort in favour of disarmament and mutual trust, I urgently call for this instrument not to be abandoned without seeking to ensure its concrete and effective follow-up. The current situation requires that everything possible be done to avert a new arms race that would further threaten peace among nations. It is more urgent than ever to substitute the logic of fear and distrust with a shared ethos capable of guiding choices towards the common good and to make peace a treasure to be cherished by all.
I greet all the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors taking part in today’s Audience, especially the groups from Ireland, Denmark, Japan, South Korea and the United States of America. I greet in particular the students from the Junshin Junior and Senior High School and the students and faculty from Franciscan University of Steubenville. Upon all of you, and upon your families, I invoke the joy and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ. God bless you!
Finally, my thoughts turn to the young people, the sick, and newlyweds. Tomorrow we will celebrate the memorial of Saint Agatha, martyred in Catania. Agatha means "good." The source of all goodness is God, our supreme good. I hope that each of you may be "good," that is, faithful witnesses to the love of the heavenly Father, who fills us with so many gifts and calls us to share in his own joy. My blessing to all!
04.02.26
Dear brothers and sisters, today, on this Feast of the Presentation of the Lord, the Gospel recounts how Simeon and Anna recognised and proclaimed Jesus as the Messiah in the Temple (cf. Lk 2:22-40). What unfolds before us is a meeting between two movements of love: that of God, who comes to save his people, and that of humanity, which awaits his coming with vigilant faith.
On the part of God, the fact that Jesus is presented as the son of a poor family within the grand setting of Jerusalem shows us how he offers himself to us with full respect for our freedom, fully sharing in our poverty. There is nothing coercive in his actions; there is only the disarming strength of his unarmed generosity. On the other hand, the expectation of humanity — specifically that of the people of Israel — finds full expression in two elderly people: Simeon and Anna. This moment represents the climax of a long history of salvation that stretches from the Garden of Eden to the courtyards of the Temple — a history marked by light and shadow, failure and renewal, yet always driven by a single, vital desire: to restore full communion between the Creator and his creatures. And so, just steps from the “Holy of Holies,” the Fountain of Light offers himself as a lamp to the world, and the Infinite gives himself to the finite in a way so humble that it almost passes unnoticed.
Today we celebrate the 30th World Day of Consecrated Life with this scene in mind, recognising it as an image of the mission of religious men and women in the Church and in the world. As Pope Francis exhorted, “‘Wake up the world,’ since the distinctive sign of consecrated life is prophecy” (Apostolic Letter to all Consecrated People, 21 November 2014, II, 2). Dear brothers and sisters, the Church asks you to be prophets — messengers who announce the presence of the Lord and prepare the way for him. Borrowing expressions from the prophet Malachi, whom we heard in the first reading, you are invited to become, through the generous “emptying” of yourselves for the Lord, braziers for the Refiner’s fire and vessels for the Fuller’s soap (cf. Mal 3:1-3). Through this offering, Christ — the one eternal messenger of the covenant, who remains present among humanity today — can melt and purify hearts with his love, grace and mercy. You are called to this mission above all through the sacrificial offering of your lives, rooted in prayer and in a readiness to be consumed by charity (cf. Dogmatic Constitution on the Church Lumen Gentium, 44).
Your founders and foundresses, docile to the action of the Holy Spirit, offer you wonderful models of how to fulfil this mandate faithfully and effectively. Living in constant tension between earth and heaven, they allowed themselves to be guided with faith and courage. Setting out from the Eucharistic table, some were led to the silence of the cloister, others to the demands of the apostolate; some to the classrooms of schools, others to the destitution of the streets or the toil of the missions. This same faith moved them to return, time and again, humbly and wisely, to the foot of the Cross and to the Tabernacle, where they offered everything and discovered in God both the source and the goal of all their actions. Through the power of grace, they also embarked on perilous undertakings. They became a prayerful presence in hostile or indifferent environments; a generous hand and a friendly shoulder amid degradation and abandonment; and witnesses of peace and reconciliation in situations marked by violence and hatred. They were ready to bear the consequences of going against the current, becoming, in Christ, a “sign of contradiction” (Lk 2:34), sometimes even to the point of martyrdom.
Pope Benedict XVI wrote that “the interpretation of sacred Scripture would remain incomplete were it not to include listening to those who have truly lived the word of God” (Post-Synodal Apostolic Exhortation Verbum Domini, 48). Today, we honor our brothers and sisters who have gone before us as protagonists of this “prophetic tradition, wherein the word of God sets the prophet’s very life at its service” (ibid., 49). We do so above all by carrying forward their legacy.
Even today, through your profession of the evangelical counsels and the many works of charity you carry out, you are called to bear witness to God’s saving presence in history for all peoples (cf. Lk 2:30-31), even within a society in which false and reductive understandings of the human person increasingly widen the gap between faith and life. You are called to testify that the young, the elderly, the poor, the sick and the imprisoned hold a sacred place above all else on God’s altar and in his heart. At the same time, each of them is an inviolable sanctuary of God’s presence, before whom we must bend our knee, in order to encounter him, adore him and give him glory.
Evidence of this can be seen in the many “outposts of the Gospel” that your communities have established in a wide variety of challenging contexts, even in the midst of conflict. These communities do not abandon their people, nor do they flee; they remain, often stripped of all security, as a living reminder — more eloquent than words — of the inviolable sacredness of life in its most vulnerable conditions. Even where weapons roar and arrogance, self-interest and violence seem to prevail, their presence proclaims the words of Jesus: “Take care that you do not despise one of these little ones, for... in heaven their angels continually see the face of my Father” (Mt 18:10).
In this light, I would like to reflect on the prayer of the elderly Simeon, which we recite every day: “Now, Lord, you let your servant go in peace; your word has been fulfilled: my own eyes have seen your salvation” (Lk 2:29-30). Consecrated life, in its serene detachment from all that is passing, reveals the inseparable bond between authentic care for earthly realities and a hope filled with love for what is eternal — those goods already chosen in this life as the final and definitive end, and thus capable of giving meaning to all else. Simeon recognised salvation in Jesus and stood free before both life and death. As a “righteous and devout” (Lk 2:25) man, together with Anna, who “never left the temple” (v. 37), he kept his gaze fixed on the promise of the world to come.
The Second Vatican Council reminds us that “the Church... will receive its perfection only in the glory of heaven... At that time, together with the human race, the universe itself... will be perfectly established in Christ” (Lumen Gentium, 48). This prophetic vision concerns you as well: men and women firmly rooted in the realities of the present, yet “always attentive to the things that are above” (Roman Missal, Collect for the Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary). Christ died and rose in order to “free those who all their lives were held in slavery by the fear of death” (Heb 2:15). Through your commitment to follow him more closely — sharing in his self-emptying and in his life in the Spirit (cf. Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Life Perfectae Caritatis, 5) — you can show the world the way to overcome conflict, sowing fraternity through the freedom of those who love and forgive without measure.
Dear consecrated men and women, today the Church gives thanks to the Lord and to you for your presence. She encourages you to be leaven of peace and signs of hope wherever Providence may lead you. As we renew the offering of our lives to God upon the altar, we entrust your work to the intercession of Mary Most Holy, together with all your holy founders and foundresses.
02.02.26
Dear brothers and sisters, happy Sunday!
Today’s liturgy proclaims a beautiful passage from the Good News that Jesus announces to all humanity: the Gospel of the Beatitudes (Mt 5:1-12). These are, in fact, lights that the Lord kindles in the darkness of history, revealing the plan of salvation that the Father accomplishes through the Son, with the power of the Holy Spirit.
On the mountain, Christ gives his disciples the new law, no longer written on stone. It is a law that renews our lives and makes them good, even when the world seems to have failed us and is full of misery. Only God can truly call the poor and afflicted blessed (cf. vv. 3-4), because he is the highest good who gives himself to all with infinite love. Only God can satisfy those who seek peace and justice (cf. vv. 6.9), because he is the just judge of the world and the author of eternal peace. Only in God do the meek, the merciful and the pure of heart find joy (vv. 5.7-8), because he is the fulfilment of their expectations. In persecution, God is the source of redemption; in falsehood, he is the anchor of truth. Therefore, Jesus proclaims: “Rejoice and be glad!” (v. 12).
These Beatitudes remain a paradox only for those who believe that God is other than how Christ reveals him. Those who expect the arrogant to always rule the earth are surprised by the Lord’s words. Those who are accustomed to thinking that happiness belongs to the rich may believe that Jesus is deluded. However, the delusion lies precisely in the lack of faith in Christ. He is the poor man who shares his life with everyone, the meek man who perseveres in suffering, the peacemaker persecuted to death on the cross.
In this way, Jesus illuminates the meaning of history. It is no longer written by conquerors, but rather by God, who is able to accomplish it by saving the oppressed. The Son looks at the world through the Father’s love. On the other hand, as Pope Francis said, there are “the experts in illusion. We should not follow them because they are unable to give us hope” (Angelus, 17 February 2019). Instead, God gives this hope primarily to those whom the world dismisses as hopeless.
Therefore, dear brothers and sisters, the Beatitudes become for us a measure of happiness, leading us to ask whether we consider it an achievement to be bought or a gift to be shared; whether we place it in objects that are consumed or in relationships that accompany us. It is in fact because of Christ (cf. Mt 5:11) and thanks to him that the bitterness of trials is transformed into the joy of the redeemed. Jesus does not speak of a distant consolation, but of a constant grace that always sustains us, especially in times of affliction.
The Beatitudes lift up the humble and disperse the proud in their inmost thoughts (cf Lk 1:51). Therefore, we ask for the intercession of the Virgin Mary, servant of the Lord, whom all generations call blessed.
Dear brothers and sisters,
I have received the greatly troubling news regarding an increase in tensions between Cuba and the United States of America, two neighbouring countries. I echo the message of the Cuban bishops, inviting all responsible parties to promote a sincere and effective dialogue, in order to avoid violence and every action that could increase the suffering of the dear Cuban people. May the Virgen de la Caridad del Cobre assist and protect all of the children of that beloved land!
Next Friday, the Milan-Cortina Winter Olympic Games will begin, followed by the Paralympic Games. I extend my best wishes to the organisers and all the athletes. These great sporting events send a powerful message of fraternity and rekindle hope for a world at peace. This is also the meaning of the Olympic truce, an ancient custom that accompanies the Games. I hope that all those who care about peace among peoples and are in positions of authority will take this opportunity to make concrete gestures of détente and dialogue.
Today in Italy is the “National Day for Civilian Victims of War and Conflict around the World.” Unfortunately this initiative is still tragically relevant. Every day there are more civilian victims of armed actions, actions that openly violate morality and the law. The dead and wounded of yesterday and today will truly be honoured when this intolerable injustice comes to an end.
I assure you of my prayers for the dead and for those who are suffering as a result of the storms that have struck Portugal and southern Italy in recent days. Let us also not forget the people of Mozambique who have been severely affected by flooding.
I greet all of you, dear Romans and pilgrims from various countries!
In particular, I am pleased to welcome the members of the Luce-Vita movement of the Diocese of Siedlce, Poland, accompanied by their Auxiliary Bishop. I greet the groups of faithful from Paraná in Argentina, from Chojnice, Warsaw, Wrocław, and Wagrowiec in Poland, from Pula and Sinj in Croatia, from Guatemala City and San Salvador, as well as the students from the Rodríguez Moñino Institute in Badajoz and those from Cuenca, Spain. I also greet the devotees of Our Lady of Miracles of Corbetta, near Milan.
I thank you from my heart for your prayers and wish everyone a happy Sunday!
01.02.26