News April 2026

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ,

As a pilgrim of peace and unity, it is a joy for me to visit your region and, above all, to share in your journey, your struggles and your hopes.

The festive celebrations that accompany your liturgies and the joy that flows from the prayers you raise are signs of your trusting surrender to God, of your unshakeable hope and of your clinging, with all your strength, to the love of the Father who draws near and looks with compassion upon the sufferings of his children.  In the Psalm, we sung together of our trust in the Lord, which we are called to renew today: “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted, and saves the crushed in spirit” (Ps 34:18).

Brothers and sisters, there are many situations in life that break our hearts and plunge us into sorrow.  Our hope for a future of peace and reconciliation, in which the dignity of every human person is respected and their fundamental rights guaranteed, is continually disappointed by the many problems afflicting this beautiful land.  These include the numerous forms of poverty, which even recently have affected so many people amidst an ongoing food crisis. There is moral, social and political corruption, seen above all in the management of wealth, which hinders the development of institutions and infrastructure. We see also the serious problems affecting the education and healthcare systems, as well as large-scale migration to foreign countries, particularly of young people.  Added to these internal problems, which are often fueled by hatred and violence, is the damage caused from outside, by those who, in the name of profit, continue to lay their hands on the African continent to exploit and plunder it.

All of this can make us feel powerless and diminish our confidence.  Yet this is the moment to change, to transform the story of this country.  The time has come, today and not tomorrow, now and not in the future, to restore the mosaic of unity by bringing together the diversity and riches of the country and the continent.  In this way, it will be possible to create a society in which peace and reconciliation reign.

It is true that when a situation remains the same for some time, there is a risk of giving in to resignation and helplessness, because we expect nothing new.  Yet the word of the Lord opens up new possibilities and brings about transformation and healing.  It is capable of stirring our hearts, of challenging the normal course of events to which we so easily risk becoming accustomed, and of making us active agents of change.  Let us remember this: God is newness, God creates new things, God makes us courageous people who, by confronting evil, build up the good.

We see this in the witness of the Apostles, as we heard in the first reading. While the authorities of the Sanhedrin interrogate the Apostles, rebuking and threatening them because they are publicly proclaiming Christ, they reply: “We must obey God rather than any human authority.  The God of our ancestors raised up Jesus, whom you had killed by hanging him on a tree” (Acts 5:29–30).

The courage of the Apostles becomes a voice of conscience, a prophecy, a denunciation of evil, and this is the first step toward changing things.  In fact, obeying God is not an act of submission that oppresses us or nullifies our freedom; on the contrary, obedience to God sets us free, because it means entrusting our lives to him and allowing his word to inspire our way of thinking and acting.  Thus, as we heard in the Gospel, which recounts the final part of the dialogue between Jesus and Nicodemus, “the one who is of the earth belongs to the earth and speaks about earthly things.  The one who comes from heaven is above all” (Jn 3:31).  Those who obey God rather than human beings and earthly ways of thinking rediscover their inner freedom, succeed in discovering the value of goodness and do not resign themselves to evil. They find anew their way in life and become builders of peace and fraternity.

Brothers and sisters, consolation for broken hearts and hope for change in society are possible if we entrust ourselves to God and God’s word.  We must, however, always keep the Apostle Peter’s exhortation in our hearts and bring it to mind: obey God, not human beings.  To obey him, because he alone is God.  This calls us to foster inculturation of the Gospel.  It also calls us to be vigilant, even regarding our own religious practices, so as not to fall into the trap of mixing the Catholic faith with other beliefs and traditions of an esoteric or Gnostic nature, which in reality often serve political and economic ends.  Only God sets us free; only his word opens paths to freedom; only his Spirit makes us new people capable of changing this country.

I accompany you with my constant prayer and I bless in particular the Church gathered here: the many priests, missionaries, religious and lay people who all work to be a source of consolation and hope.  I encourage you to continue along this path and I entrust you to the intercession of Mary Most Holy, Queen of the Apostles and Mother of the Church.

16.04.26 m

Dear sisters and brothers,

It is a joy for me to be with you in this region that has suffered so greatly. As your testimonies have just demonstrated, the lived experience of suffering by your community has only made stronger your conviction that God has never abandoned us! In God, in his peace, we can always begin anew!

His Excellency the Archbishop mentioned the prophecy that exclaims: “How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of the messenger who announces peace!” (Is 52:7). He welcomed me with these words, and now I would like to respond: how beautiful are your feet as well, dusty from this bloodstained yet fertile land that has been mistreated, yet is rich in vegetation and fruit. Your feet have brought you this far, and despite the difficulties and obstacles, they have remained on the path of goodness. May we all continue on the path of goodness which leads to peace. I am grateful for your words of welcome, because it is true: I am here to proclaim peace. Yet I find it is you who are proclaiming peace to me, and to the entire world. As one of you observed, the crisis impacting these regions of Cameroon has brought Christian and Muslim communities closer than ever before. Indeed, your religious leaders have come together to establish a Movement for Peace, through which they seek to mediate between the opposing sides.

I wish this would happen in so many other places of the world. Your witness, your work for peace can be a model for the whole world! Jesus told us: Blessed are the peacemakers! But woe to those who manipulate religion and the very name of God for their own military, economic or political gain, dragging that which is sacred into darkness and filth. Yes, my dear sisters and brothers, you who hunger and thirst for justice, who are poor, merciful, meek, and pure of heart, you who have wept — you are the light of the world! (cf. Mt 5:3-14). Bamenda, today you are the city on the hill, resplendent in the eyes of all! Sisters and brothers, be the salt that continuously gives flavour to this land. Do not lose your flavour, even in the years to come! Cherish all the shared moments that have brought you together in these times of sorrow. Let us all cherish this day when we have come together to work for peace! Be like oil poured out upon the wounds of your brothers and sisters.

In this regard, I would like to express gratitude to all those, particularly the lay and religious women, who care for individuals traumatized by violence. It is an enormous task that goes unseen day by day, and as Sister Carine reminded us, it is also dangerous. The masters of war pretend not to know that it takes only a moment to destroy, yet a lifetime is often not enough to rebuild. They turn a blind eye to the fact that billions of dollars are spent on killing and devastation, yet the resources needed for healing, education and restoration are nowhere to be found. Those who rob your land of its resources generally invest much of the profit in weapons, thus perpetuating an endless cycle of destabilization and death. It is a world turned upside down, an exploitation of God’s creation that must be denounced and rejected by every honest conscience. We must make a decisive change of course — a true conversion — that will lead us in the opposite direction, onto a sustainable path rich in human fraternity. The world is being ravaged by a handful of tyrants, yet it is held together by a multitude of supportive brothers and sisters! They are the descendants of Abraham, as numerous as the stars in the sky and the grains of sand on the seashore. Let us look into each other’s eyes: we are this immense people! Peace is not something we must invent: it is something we must embrace by accepting our neighbour as our brother and as our sister. We do not choose our brothers and sisters: we simply must accept one another! We are one family, inhabiting the same home: this wonderful planet that ancient cultures have cared for across millennia.

Pope Francis’ insight in the Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii Gaudium came to mind as I listened to your words. He wrote, “My mission of being in the heart of the people is not just a part of my life or a badge I can take off; it is not something ‘extra’ or just another moment in life. Instead, it is something I cannot uproot from my being without destroying my very self. I am a mission on this earth; that is the reason why I am here in this world” (no. 273).

Dear brothers and sisters of Bamenda, it is with these sentiments that I am here today among you! Let us serve peace together! “We have to regard ourselves as sealed, even branded, by this mission of bringing light, blessing, enlivening, raising up, healing and freeing. All around us we begin to see nurses with soul, teachers with soul, politicians with soul, people who have chosen deep down to be with others and for others” (ibid.). Thus, my beloved predecessor exhorted us to walk together, each of us according to our own vocation, stretching the boundaries of our communities, beginning with concrete efforts on the local level, in order to love our neighbour, whomever and wherever he or she may be. You are witnesses to this silent revolution! As the Imam said, let us thank God that this crisis has not degenerated into a religious war, and that we are all still trying to love one another! Let us move forward courageously, without losing heart, and above all, together, always together!

Let us walk together, in love, searching always for peace.

[Outside the Cathedral:]

My dear brothers and sisters, today the Lord has chosen all of us to be workers who bring peace to this land! Let us all say a prayer to the Lord, that peace will truly reign among us, that as we release these white doves — a symbol of peace — that God’s peace will be upon all of us, upon this land, and keep us all united in his peace. Praise the Lord!

16.04.26 pm

Dear brothers and sisters,

The divine Word pervades history and renews it through the human voice of the Savior. Today we listen to the Gospel, the Good News for all time, in this Basilica in Annaba dedicated to Saint Augustine, Bishop of the ancient city of Hippo. Over the centuries, the names of the places that welcome us have changed, but the saints continue to serve as our patrons and faithful witnesses of a connection to the land that comes from heaven. It is precisely this dynamic that the Lord revealed at night to Nicodemus: this is the strength that Christ instills in the weakness of his faith and the tenacity of his search.

Sent by the Spirit of God, which “you do not know where it comes from or where it goes” (Jn 3:8), Jesus is a special guest for Nicodemus. In fact, he calls him to a new life, entrusting to his interlocutor — and to us as well — a surprising task: “You must be born from above” (v. 7). Such is the invitation for every man and woman who seeks salvation! Jesus’ invitation gives rise to the mission of the whole Church, and consequently to the Christian community in Algeria: to be born again from above, that is, from God. In this perspective, faith overcomes earthly hardships and the Lord’s grace makes the desert blossom. Yet the beauty of this exhortation also brings with it a challenge, which the Gospel calls us to face together.

As a matter of fact, Christ’s words contain all the force of a command: you must be born again from above! Such a command rings in our ears as a feat that would be impossible. However, when we listen attentively to the one who gives the order, we come to understand that this is neither a harsh imposition nor a constraint, and much less a condemnation to failure. On the contrary, the obligation expressed by Jesus is a gift of freedom for us, because it reveals an unexpected possibility: we can be born anew from above thanks to God. We should do so, then, according to his loving will, which desires to renew humanity by calling us to a communion of life that begins with faith. While Christ invites us to renew our lives completely, he also gives us the strength to do so. Saint Augustine attests to this well when praying in this way, “Give, O Lord, what you command and command what you will” (Confessions, X, 29, 40).

Therefore, when we ask ourselves how a future of justice, peace, harmony and salvation will be possible, we must remember that we are asking God the same question that Nicodemus asked: can our story truly change? We are so weighed down by problems, hardships and tribulations! Can we truly start our lives over again? Yes! The Lord’s response, so full of love, fills our hearts with hope. No matter how weighed down we are by pain or sin: the crucified One carries all these burdens with us and for us. No matter how discouraged we are by our own weaknesses: it is precisely then that God manifests his strength, the God who has raised Christ from the dead in order to give life to the world. Each one of us can experience the freedom of new life that comes from faith in the Redeemer. Once again, Saint Augustine offers us an example of this: we revere him for his conversion even more than for his wisdom. In this rebirth, providentially accompanied by the tears of his mother, Saint Monica, he found himself, exclaiming: “I could not therefore exist, could not exist at all, O my God, unless you were in me. Or should I not rather say, that I could not exist unless I were in you” (Confessions, I, 2).

Christians are truly born from above, regenerated by God as brothers and sisters of Jesus, and the Church that nourishes them with the sacraments is the welcoming bosom for all peoples. As we have just heard, the Acts of the Apostles bears witness to this by describing the lifestyle that characterizes humanity when it has been renewed by the Holy Spirit (cf. Acts 4:32-37). Even today, we must embrace this apostolic rule and put it into practice, meditating on it as an authentic criterion for ecclesial reform: a reform that must begin in the heart, if it is to be genuine, and must encompass everyone if it is to be effective.

First, “the whole group of those who believed were of one heart and soul” (v. 32). This spiritual unity is a concordia: a word that signifies well the communion of hearts that beat as one because they are united with the heart of Christ. The early Church, therefore, was not based on a social contract, but rather on the harmony of faith, affections, ideas and life decisions centered on the love of God who became man to save all the peoples of the earth.

Second, let us admire the tangible effects of the spiritual unity among believers: “everything they owned was held in common” (v. 32). Everyone has everything, sharing in one another’s goods as members of a single body. No one is deprived of anything, because everyone shares what they have. Since possession can be transformed into gift, this fraternal dedication does not represent a utopia. Only hearts divided against one another and souls consumed by greed believe that it is. On the contrary, faith in the one God, Lord of heaven and earth, unites people according to perfect justice, which calls everyone to charity — that is, to love every creature with the love that God gives us in Christ. Therefore, in the face of poverty and oppression, the guiding principle above all for Christians is charity: let us do to those around us, as we would have them do to us (cf. Mt 7:12). Inspired by this law, inscribed in our hearts by God, the Church is continually reborn, for where there is despair she kindles hope, where there is misery she brings dignity, and where there is conflict she brings reconciliation.

Third, the passage from Acts shows us the foundation of this new life, which embraces peoples of every language and culture: “With great power the apostles gave their testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great grace was upon them all” (v. 33). The charity that motivates them is more than a moral commitment; it is a sign of salvation: the Apostles proclaim that our lives can change because Christ has risen from the dead. The primary task of pastors as ministers of the Gospel is therefore to bear witness to God before the world with one heart and one soul, not permitting our concerns to lead us astray through fear, nor trends to undermine us through compromise. Together with you, brothers in the Episcopate and the Priesthood, let us constantly renew this mission for the sake of those entrusted to us, so that through her service, the whole Church may be a message of new life for those we encounter.

Dearest Christians of Algeria, you remain a humble and faithful sign of Christ’s love in this land. Bear witness to the Gospel through simple gestures, genuine relationships and a dialogue lived out day by day: in this way, you bring flavor and light to the places where you live. Your presence in this country is like incense: a glowing grain that spreads fragrance because it gives glory to the Lord and joy and comfort to so many brothers and sisters. This incense is a small, precious element that does not draw attention to itself, but invites us to turn our hearts to God, encouraging one another to persevere amid the difficulties of the present time. From the thurible of our hearts may there rise praise, blessing and supplication, spreading the sweet fragrance (cf. Eph 5:2) of mercy, almsgiving, and forgiveness. Your history is one of generous hospitality and resilience in times of trial. Here the martyrs prayed; here Saint Augustine loved his flock, fervently seeking the truth and serving Christ with ardent faith. Be heirs to this tradition, bearing witness through fraternal charity to the freedom of those born from above as a hope of salvation for the world.

Thank you, Your Excellency, for the sentiments you have expressed on behalf of the entire community!  And thank you all for your warm welcome over the last few days.

I would like to express my gratitude in particular to the civil authorities for the thoughtful hospitality that I have received and for the care with which they ensured the success of my visit to Algeria.

I regard this journey as a special gift of God’s providence, a gift that the Lord wished to bestow upon the entire Church through an Augustinian Pope.

The following is a fitting summary of my time here: God is love; he is the Father of all men and women.  Let us therefore turn to him with humility and acknowledge that the current state of the world, which is in a downward spiral, ultimately stems from our pride.  We need him and we need his mercy.  Only in him does the human heart find peace, and only with him can we, all together, recognize one another as brothers and sisters, and walk the path of justice, integral development and communion.  Thank you, thank you all very much!

14.04.26

Dear brothers and sisters, happy Sunday and happy Easter once again!

Today, on the Second Sunday of Easter, dedicated to Divine Mercy by Saint John Paul II, the Gospel recounts the appearance of the risen Jesus to the Apostle Thomas (cf. Jn 20:19–31).  This event took place eight days after Easter, while the community was gathered together.  There, Thomas encountered the Master, who invited him to look at the marks of the nails and to put his hand into the wound in his side, and to believe (cf. v. 27).  This scene invites us to reflect on our own encounter with the risen Jesus.  Where can we find him?  How can we recognise him?  How can we believe?  Saint John, who narrated the event, gives us precise indications: Thomas met Jesus on the eighth day, in the gathered community, and recognised him in the signs of his sacrifice.  His profession of faith, the highest in the entire Fourth Gospel, emerged from this experience: “My Lord and my God!” (v. 28).

Of course, it is not always easy to believe.  It was not easy for Thomas, and it is not easy for us either.  Faith needs to be nourished and sustained.  For this reason, on the “eighth day” — that is, every Sunday — the Church invites us to do as the first disciples did: gather together and celebrate the Eucharist.  During Mass, we listen to the words of Jesus, we pray, we profess our faith, we share God’s gifts in charity, we offer our lives in union with the Sacrifice of Christ.  His Body and Blood nourish us, so that we too may become witnesses of his Resurrection, as indicated by the term “Mass,” which means “sending forth,” or “mission” (cf. Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1332).

The Sunday Eucharist is indispensable to the Christian life.  Tomorrow I will depart for my Apostolic Journey to Africa.  Some of the martyrs of the early African Church, particularly the Martyrs of Abitene, have left us a beautiful testimony in this regard. When offered the chance to save their lives by renouncing the celebration of the Eucharist, they replied that they could not live without celebrating the Lord’s Day.  It is there that our faith is grows and is strengthened.  It is there that our efforts, though limited, are united by God’s grace to the actions of the members of a single body — the Body of Christ — for the accomplishment of a single great plan of salvation that embraces all humanity.  It is through the Eucharist that our hands become “the hands of the Risen One,” giving witness to his presence, mercy and peace.  The signs of work, sacrifice, illness and the passing of the years are often etched into our hands, just as they are in the tenderness of a caress, a handshake, or a gesture of charity.

Dear brothers and sisters, in a world that is in such great need of peace, this calls on us more than ever to be steadfast and faithful in our Eucharistic encounter with the risen Lord, so that we may go forth as witnesses of charity and messengers of reconciliation.  May the Virgin Mary help us to do this, she who is blessed because she was the first to believe without seeing (cf. Jn 20:29).

Dear brothers and sisters,

Today, many Eastern Churches celebrate Easter according to the Julian calendar.  In communion of faith in the Risen Lord, I extend my heartfelt wishes for peace to all these communities.  I accompany these wishes with my fervent prayer for all those suffering due to war, particularly for the dear people of Ukraine.  May the light of Christ bring comfort to afflicted hearts and strengthen the hope for peace.  May the international community’s attention to the tragedy of this war not waver!

In these days of sorrow, fear, and unwavering hope in God, I feel closer than ever to the beloved people of Lebanon.  The principle of humanity, inscribed in the conscience of every person and recognized in international law, entails a moral obligation to protect the civilian population from the horrific effects of war.  I call on the parties in the conflict to declare a ceasefire and urgently seek a peaceful solution.

Next Wednesday marks the third anniversary of the start of the bloodstained conflict in Sudan.  How much the Sudanese people are suffering, innocent victims of this inhuman tragedy!  I renew my fervent appeal to the warring parties to silence their weapons and begin, without preconditions, a sincere dialogue aimed at ending this fratricidal war as soon as possible.

Now, I welcome all of you – Romans and pilgrims alike – especially the faithful who celebrated Divine Mercy Sunday at the Shrine of Santo Spirito in Sassia.

I greet the Musikverein Kleinraming, from the Diocese of Linz in Austria, the faithful who have come from Poland, the young people from the Collège Saint Jean de Passy in Paris, and those of various nationalities from the Focolare Movement. I also greet the pilgrimage group from the community of San Benedetto Po and the confirmands from Santarcangelo di Romagna and San Vito.

I will depart tomorrow for my ten-day Apostolic Journey to four African countries: Algeria, Cameroon, Angola and Equatorial Guinea.  Please keep me in your prayers.

I wish everyone a happy Sunday!

12.04.26

Dear brothers and sisters, good morning and welcome!

The Constitution of the Second Vatican Council Lumen gentium (LG) on the Church dedicates an entire chapter, the fifth, to the universal vocation to holiness of all the faithful: every one of us is called to live in the grace of God, practising the virtues and imitating Christ. Holiness, according to the Conciliar Constitution, is not a privilege for the few, but a gift that requires every baptised person to strive for the perfection of charity, that is, the fullness of love towards God and towards one’s neighbour. Charity is, in fact, the heart of the holiness to which all believers are called: infused by the Father, through the Son Jesus, this virtue “rules over all the means of attaining holiness and gives life to these same means” (LG, 42). The highest level of holiness, as in the early days of the Church, is martyrdom, the “supreme witness of faith and charity” (LG, 50: for this reason, the Council text teaches that every believer must be ready to confess Christ even unto blood (cf. LG, 42), as has always been the case and continues to be so today. This readiness to bear witness is realised every time Christians leave signs of faith and love in society, committing themselves to justice.

All the Sacraments, and in a pre-eminent way the Eucharist, are nourishment that fosters a holy life, assimilating every person to Christ, the model and measure of holiness. He sanctifies the Church, of which He is the Head and Shepherd: holiness is, from this point of view, His gift, which is manifested in our daily life every time we receive it with joy and respond to it with commitment. In this regard, Saint Paul VI, in the General Audience of 20 October 1965, recalled that the Church, to be authentic, requires that all the baptised must “be holy, that is, truly worthy, strong and faithful children of hers”. This is realised as an inner transformation, whereby the life of every person is conformed to Christ by virtue of the Holy Spirit (cf. Rom 8:29; LG, 40).

Lumen gentium describes the holiness of the Catholic Church as one of her constitutive characteristics, to receive in faith, inasmuch as she is believed to be “indefectibly holy” (LG, 39): this does not mean that she is so in a full and perfect sense, but that she is called to confirm this divine gift during her pilgrimage towards the eternal destination, walking “amid the persecutions of the world and the consolations of God” (Saint Augustine, De civitate Dei 51,2; LG, 8). The sad reality of sin in the Church, that is, in all of us, invites each person to carry out a serious change of life, entrusting ourselves to the Lord, who renews us in charity. It is precisely this infinite grace, which sanctifies the Church, that entrusts us with a mission to fulfil day after day: that of our conversion. Therefore, holiness does not only have a practical nature, as if it were reducible to an ethical commitment, however great, but concerns the very essence of Christian life, both personal and communal.

From this perspective, a decisive role is played by consecrated life, which the Conciliar Constitution considers in the sixth chapter (cf. nos. 43-47). In the holy People of God, it constitutes a prophetic sign of the new world, experienced here and now in history. Indeed, signs of the Kingdom of God, already present in the mystery of the Church, are those evangelical counsels that shape every experience of consecrated life: poverty, chastity and obedience. These three virtues are not rules that shackle freedom, but liberating gifts of the Holy Spirit, through which some of the faithful are wholly consecrated to God. Poverty expresses complete trust in Providence, freeing one from calculation and self-interest; obedience takes as its model the self-giving that Christ offered to the Father, freeing one from suspicion and domination; chastity is the gift of a heart that is whole and pure in love, at the service of God and the Church.

By conforming to this style of life, consecrated persons bear witness to the universal vocation of holiness of the entire Church, in the form of radical discipleship. The evangelical counsels manifest full participation in the life of Christ, unto the Cross: it is precisely by the sacrifice of the Crucified One that we are all redeemed and sanctified! By contemplating this event, we know that there is no human experience that God does not redeem: even suffering, lived in union with the passion of the Lord, becomes a path of holiness. The grace that converts and transforms life thus strengthens us in every trial, pointing us not towards a distant ideal, but towards the encounter with God, who became man out of love. May the Virgin Mary, the all-holy Mother of the Incarnate Word, always sustain and protect our journey.

Following these past few hours of great tension in the Middle East and throughout the world, I welcome with satisfaction, and as a sign of deep hope, the announcement of an immediate two-week ceasefire. Only by returning to the negotiating table can we bring the war to an end.

I urge you to accompany this time of delicate diplomatic work with prayer, in the hope that a willingness to engage in dialogue may become the means to resolve other situations of conflict in the world.

I reiterate my invitation to everyone to join me in the Prayer Vigil for Peace, which we will celebrate here in Saint Peter’s Basilica on Saturday 11 April.

Lastly, my thoughts turn to the sick, to the newlyweds and to other young people, especially to school groups, including the Maraini School in Rieti. I encourage each one to let the consoling light of the Easter proclamation grow in his heart.

My blessing to you all!

08.04.26

Dear brothers and sisters, Christ is risen! Happy Easter!

This greeting, filled with wonder and joy, will accompany us throughout this week. As we celebrate the new day the Lord has made for us, the liturgy proclaims the entry of all creation into the time of salvation: in the name of Jesus, the despair of death is swept away forever.

Today’s Gospel (Mt 28:8–15) calls us to choose between two accounts: that of the women who encountered the risen Lord (vv. 9–11), and that of the guards who were bribed by the leaders of the Sanhedrin (vv. 11–14). The former proclaim Christ’s victory over death; the latter assert that death prevails always and in every circumstance. According to their version, Jesus has not risen; instead, his body was stolen. From the same fact — the empty tomb — two interpretations arise: one a source of new and eternal life, the other of certain and definitive death.

This contrast invites us to reflect on the value of Christian witness and the integrity of human communication. Often, the proclamation of truth is obscured by what we today call “fake news” — lies, insinuations, and unfounded accusations. Yet, in the face of such obstacles, the truth does not remain hidden; rather, it comes forth to meet us, living and radiant, illuminating even the deepest darkness. Just as he spoke to the women at the tomb, Jesus says to us today: “Do not be afraid; go and tell” (v. 10). In this way, he himself becomes the Good News to be witnessed in the world. The Passover of the Lord is our Passover — the Passover of all humanity — for this man who died for us is the Son of God, who gave his life for us. Just as the risen One, ever living and present, frees the past from a destructive end, so the Easter proclamation redeems our future from the tomb.

Dear friends, how important it is that this Gospel reach, above all, those oppressed by the evil that corrupts history and confuses consciences! I think of peoples afflicted by war, of Christians persecuted for their faith, of children deprived of an education. To proclaim the Paschal mystery of Christ in both word and deed means to give a new voice to hope — a hope otherwise stifled by the hands of the violent. Wherever it is proclaimed, the Good News sheds light upon every shadow, in every age.

With particular affection, in the light of the risen Lord, we remember today Pope Francis, who, on Easter Monday of last year, returned to the Lord. As we recall his profound witness of faith and love, let us pray together to the Virgin Mary, Seat of Wisdom, that we may become ever more radiant heralds of the truth.

Dear brothers and sisters,

I extend a warm welcome to all of you, dear pilgrims from Italy and various other countries.  I greet, in particular, the young people from the Deanery of Appiano Gentile.  My thoughts go out to all those in different parts of the world who are taking part in the initiatives organised for the “International Day of Sport for Development and Peace”, renewing my appeal that sport, with its universal language of fraternity, may be a place of inclusion and peace.

I thank all those who have sent me messages of good wishes for Easter during these days.  I am especially grateful for your prayers.  Through the intercession of the Virgin Mary, may God reward each of you with his gifts!

I hope you spend this Easter Monday and these days of the Easter Octave – during which we continue to celebrate Christ’s Resurrection – in joy and faith.  Let us continue to pray for the gift of peace for the whole world.

Happy Easter Monday!

06.04.26

Brothers and sisters,

Christ is risen! Happy Easter!

For centuries, the Church has joyfully sung of the event that is the origin and foundation of her faith: “Yes, Christ my hope is arisen / Christ indeed from death is risen / Have mercy, victor King, ever reigning” (Easter Sequence).

Easter is the victory of life over death, of light over darkness, of love over hatred. It is a victory that came at a very high price: Christ, the Son of the living God (cf. Mt 16:16), had to die — and die on a cross — after suffering an unjust condemnation, being mocked and tortured, and shedding all his blood. As the true immolated Lamb, he took upon himself the sin of the world (cf. Jn 1:29; 1 Pet 1:18–19) and thus freed us all — and with us, all creation — from the dominion of evil.

But how was Jesus able to be victorious? What is the strength with which he defeated once and for all the ancient adversary, the prince of this world (cf. Jn 12:31)? What is the power with which he rose from the dead, not returning to his former life, but entering into eternal life and thus opening in his own flesh the passage from this world to the Father?

This strength, this power, is God himself for he is Love who creates and generates, Love who is faithful to the end and Love who forgives and redeems.

Christ, our “victorious King,” fought and won his battle through trusting abandonment to the Father’s will, to his plan of salvation (cf. Mt 26:42). Thus he walked the path of dialogue to the very end, not in words but in deeds: to find us who were lost, he became flesh; to free us who were slaves, he became a slave; to give life to us mortals, he allowed himself to be killed on the cross.

The power with which Christ rose is entirely non-violent. It is like that of a grain of wheat which, having rotted in the earth, grows, breaks through the clods, sprouts, and becomes a golden ear of wheat. It is even more like that of a human heart which, wounded by an offence, rejects the instinct for revenge and, filled with compassion, prays for the one who has committed the offence.

Brothers and sisters, this is the true strength that brings peace to humanity, because it fosters respectful relationships at every level: among individuals, families, social groups, and nations. It does not seek private interests, but the common good; it does not seek to impose its own plan, but to help design and carry out a plan together with others.

Yes, Christ’s resurrection is the beginning of a new humanity; it is the entrance into the true promised land, where justice, freedom, and peace reign, where all recognise one another as brothers and sisters, children of the same Father who is Love, Life, and Light.

Brothers and sisters, through his resurrection, the Lord confronts us even more powerfully with the dramatic reality of our freedom. Before the empty tomb, we can be filled with hope and wonder, like the disciples, or with fear like the guards and the Pharisees, forced to resort to lies and subterfuge rather than acknowledge that the one who had been condemned is truly risen (cf. Mt 28:11–15)!

In the light of Easter, let us allow ourselves to be amazed by Christ! Let us allow our hearts to be transformed by his immense love for us! Let those who have weapons lay them down! Let those who have the power to unleash wars choose peace! Not a peace imposed by force, but through dialogue! Not with the desire to dominate others, but to encounter them!

We are growing accustomed to violence, resigning ourselves to it, and becoming indifferent. Indifferent to the deaths of thousands of people. Indifferent to the repercussions of hatred and division that conflicts sow. Indifferent to the economic and social consequences they produce, which we all feel. There is an ever-increasing “globalisation of indifference,” to borrow an expression dear to Pope Francis, who one year ago from this loggia addressed his final words to the world, reminding us: “What a great thirst for death, for killing, we witness each day in the many conflicts raging in different parts of the world!” (Urbi et Orbi Message, 20 April 2025).

The cross of Christ always reminds us of the suffering and pain that surround death and the agony it entails. We are all afraid of death, and out of fear we turn away, preferring not to look. We cannot continue to be indifferent! And we cannot resign ourselves to evil! Saint Augustine teaches: “If you fear death, love the resurrection!” (Sermon 124, 4). Let us too love the resurrection, which reminds us that evil is not the last word, because it has been defeated by the Risen One.

He passed through death to give us life and peace: “I leave you peace; I give you my peace. Not as the world gives it, I give it to you” (Jn 14:27). The peace that Jesus gives us is not merely the silence of weapons, but the peace that touches and transforms the heart of each one of us! Let us allow ourselves to be transformed by the peace of Christ! Let us make heard the cry for peace that springs from our hearts! For this reason, I invite everyone to join me in a prayer vigil for peace that we will celebrate here in Saint Peter’s Basilica next Saturday, April 11.

On this day of celebration, let us abandon every desire for conflict, domination, and power, and implore the Lord to grant his peace to a world ravaged by wars and marked by a hatred and indifference that make us feel powerless in the face of evil. To the Lord we entrust all hearts that suffer and await the true peace that only he can give. Let us entrust ourselves to him and open our hearts to him! He is the only one who makes all things new (cf. Rev 21:5).

Happy Easter!

05.04.26 uo

Dear brothers and sisters,

Today all of creation is resplendent with new light, a song of praise rises from the earth, and our hearts rejoice: Christ is risen from the dead, and with him, we too rise to new life!

This Easter proclamation embraces the mystery of our lives and the destiny of history, reaching us even in the depths of death, where we feel threatened and sometimes overwhelmed. It opens us up to a hope that never fails, to a light that never fades, to a fullness of joy that nothing can take away: death has been conquered forever; death no longer has power over us!

This is a message that is not always easy to accept, a promise that we struggle to embrace, because the power of death constantly threatens us, both from within and without.

From within, this power threatens us when the weight of our sins prevents us from “spreading our wings” and taking flight, or when the disappointments or loneliness we experience drain our hope. It likewise looms over us when our worries or our resentments suffocate the joy of living, when we are sad or tired, or when we feel betrayed or rejected. When we have to come to terms with our weakness, with the sufferings and the daily grind of life, we can feel as if we have ended up in a tunnel with no end in sight.

From without, death is always lurking. We see it present in injustices, in partisan selfishness, in the oppression of the poor, in the lack of attention given to the most vulnerable. We see it in violence, in the wounds of the world, in the cry of pain that rises from every corner because of the abuses that crush the weakest among us, because of the idolatry of profit that plunders the earth’s resources, because of the violence of war that kills and destroys.

In this reality, the Passover of the Lord invites us to lift our gaze and open our hearts. It continues to nourish the seed of the promised victory within our spirit and throughout the course of history. It sets us in motion, like Mary Magdalene and the Apostles, so that we may discover that Jesus’ tomb is empty, and therefore in every death we experience there is also room for new life to arise. The Lord is alive and remains with us. Through the cracks of resurrection that open up in the darkness, he entrusts our hearts to the hope that sustains us: the power of death is not the final destiny of our lives. We are all directed, once and for all, on the path to fulfilment, because in Christ we also have risen.

With heartfelt words, Pope Francis reminded us of this in his first Apostolic Exhortation, Evangelii Gaudium, affirming that the resurrection of Christ “is not an event of the past; it contains a vital power which has permeated this world. Where all seems to be dead, signs of the resurrection suddenly spring up. It is an irresistible force. Often it seems that God does not exist: all around us we see persistent injustice, evil, indifference and cruelty. But it is also true that in the midst of darkness something new always springs to life and sooner or later produces fruit” (n. 276).

Brothers and sisters, Easter gives us this hope, as we remember that in the risen Christ a new creation is possible every day. This is what today’s Gospel tells us, as it clearly describes the event of the resurrection as taking place on “the first day of the week” (Jn 20:1). The day of Christ’s resurrection thus takes us back to that first day when God created the world, and at the same time proclaims that a new life, stronger than death, is now dawning for humanity.

Easter is the new creation brought about by the Risen Lord; it is a new beginning; it is life finally made eternal by God’s victory over the ancient enemy.

We need this song of hope today. It is ourselves, risen with Christ, who must bring him into the streets of the world. Let us then run like Mary Madgalene, announcing him to everyone, living out the joy of the resurrection, so that wherever the spectre of death still lingers, the light of life may shine.

May Christ, our Passover, bless us and give his peace to the whole world!

05.04.26 m

“The sanctifying power of this night dispels wickedness, washes faults away, restores innocence to the fallen… drives out hatred, fosters concord and brings down the mighty” (Exsultet).

With these words at the beginning of this celebration, dear brothers and sisters, the deacon praised the light of the Risen Christ, symbolised by the Paschal Candle. From this single candle, we have all lit our own candles, and, each carrying a small flame drawn from the same fire, we have illuminated this great basilica. It is the sign of the Paschal light, which unites us in the Church as lights for the world. At the deacon’s announcement, we responded “Amen,” affirming our commitment to embrace this mission, and shortly we will repeat our “yes” by renewing our baptismal promises.

This, my dear friends, is a Vigil filled with light, the oldest in the Christian tradition, known as the “mother of all vigils.” In it we relive the victory of the Lord of life over death and the underworld. We do this, as part of one great celebration, after having journeyed in recent days through the mysteries of the Passion of the God who became for us “a man of sorrows” (Is 53:3), “despised and rejected by men” (ibid.), tortured and crucified.

Is there a greater act of charity? A more complete gift? The risen One is the same creator of the universe who, just as he brought us into existence out of nothing at the dawn of history, also gave his life for us on the Cross to show us his boundless love.

The first reading reminded us of this with the account of creation. In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth (cf. Gen 1:1), bringing the cosmos out of chaos, harmony out of disorder and entrusting to us – made in his image and likeness – the task of being its stewards. Even when, through sin, humanity failed to live up to that plan, the Lord did not abandon us, but revealed his merciful face to us in an even more surprising way – through forgiveness.

The “holy mystery of this night,” then, has its roots even in the place where humanity’s first failure took place, and extends across the centuries as a path of reconciliation and grace.

Through the sacred texts we have heard, the liturgy has shown us some of the stages of this journey. It reminded us how God stopped Abraham’s hand as he was about to sacrifice his son Isaac, to show us that he does not desire our death, but rather that we dedicate ourselves to being, in his hands, living members of the lineage of those who are saved (cf. Gen 22:11–12, 15–18). In the same way, the liturgy invited us to reflect on how the Lord freed the Israelites from slavery in Egypt, transforming the sea – a place of death and an insurmountable obstacle – into the gateway to a new life of freedom. The same message echoed in the words of the prophets, who praised God as a bridegroom who calls and gathers (cf. Is 54:5–7), a spring that quenches thirst, water that brings forth fruit (cf. Is 55:1,10), a light that shows the way to peace (cf. Bar 3:14) and Spirit who transforms and renews the heart (cf. Ez 36:26).

In all of these moments in the history of salvation, we have seen how God responds to the hardness of sin – which divides and kills – with the power of love, which unites and restores life. We have heard the narrative interwoven with psalms and prayers, reminding us that, through Christ’s Paschal Mystery, “we were buried with him by baptism into death… we too might walk in newness of life… dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus” (Rom 6:4,11); we are therefore consecrated in Baptism to the Father’s love, united in the communion of saints and made, by grace, living stones for the building up of his Kingdom (cf. 1 Pet 2:4–5).

In this light, let us reflect on the story of the Resurrection, which we heard in the Gospel according to Matthew. On Easter morning, the women, overcoming their grief and fear, set out on their journey. They wanted to go to Jesus’ tomb. They expected to find it sealed, with a large stone at the entrance and soldiers standing guard. This is what sin is: a heavy barrier that closes us off and separates us from God, seeking to kill his words of hope within us. Mary Magdalene and the other Mary, however, did not let themselves be intimidated. They went to the tomb and, thanks to their faith and love, became the first witnesses of the Resurrection. In the earthquake and in the angel sitting on the overturned stone, they saw the power of God’s love, stronger than any force of evil, capable of “driving out hatred” and “bringing down the mighty.” Man can kill the body, but the life of the God of love is eternal life, which transcends death and which no tomb can imprison. Thus the Crucified One reigned from the cross, the angel sat upon the stone, and Jesus appeared to them alive, saying, “Greetings!” (Mt 28:9).

This, my dear friends, is also our message to the world today. The encounter to which we want to bear witness – through the words of faith and the works of charity – we do so by “singing” with our lives the “Alleluia” that we proclaim with our lips (cf. Saint Augustine, Sermon 256, 1). Just as the women rushed to tell the disciples, we too should desire to set out tonight from this Basilica to bring to all the good news that Jesus has risen and that having risen with him, through his power, we too can give life to a new world of peace and unity as “a multitude of people and yet […] a single person, for although there are many Christians, Christ is one” (Saint Augustine, Commentaries on the Psalms, 127:3).

Our brothers and sisters gathered here, who come from various parts of the world and are about to receive Baptism, will dedicate themselves to this mission. After the long journey of the catechumenate, today they are reborn in Christ to become new creatures (cf. 2 Cor 5:17) and witnesses to the Gospel. To them, and to all of us, let us repeat what Saint Augustine said to the Christians of his time: “Proclaim Christ, sow…, spread everywhere what you have conceived in your heart” (Sermon 116, 23–24).

Sisters and brothers, even today there are tombs to be opened, and often the stones sealing them are so heavy and so closely guarded that they seem to be immovable. Some weigh heavily on the human heart, such as mistrust, fear, selfishness and resentment; others, stemming from these inner struggles, sever the bonds between us through war, injustice and the isolation of peoples and nations. Let us not allow ourselves to be paralysed by them! Over the centuries, many men and women, with God’s help, have rolled them away — perhaps with great effort, sometimes at the cost of their lives — but with good fruits that we still benefit from today. They are not unattainable figures, but people like us who, strengthened by the grace of the Risen One, in charity and truth, had the courage to speak, as the Apostle Peter says, the “very words of God” (1 Pet 4:11) and to act “with the strength that God supplies, so that God may be glorified” (ibid.).

Let us be inspired by their example, and on this Holy Night let us make their commitment our own, so that the Easter gifts of harmony and peace may grow and flourish everywhere and always throughout the world.

04.04.26

Dear brothers and sisters,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

02.04.26 mls

Dear brothers and sisters,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There is also a third dimension, perhaps the most radical, of the Christian mission. The dramatic possibility of misunderstanding and rejection, which is already seen in the violent reaction of the people of Nazareth to Jesus’ words. “When they heard this, all in the synagogue were filled with rage. They got up, drove him out of the town, and led him to the brow of the hill on which their town was built, so that they might hurl him off the cliff” (Lk 4:28-29). Although the liturgical reading has omitted this part, what we are about to celebrate this evening calls on us not to flee, but to “pass through” the trial, just as Jesus did. Jesus “passed through the midst of them and went on his way” (Lk 4:30). The cross is part of the mission: the sending becomes more bitter and frightening, but also more freeing and transformative. The imperialist occupation of the world is thus disrupted from within; the violence that until now has been the law is unmasked. The poor, imprisoned, rejected Messiah descends into the darkness of death, yet in so doing he brings a new creation to light.

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

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

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

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

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

02.04.26 cm

Brothers and sisters, good morning!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My blessing to everyone!

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