News June 2026

Dear brothers and sisters, good morning and welcome!

We will continue our catechesis on the documents of the Second Vatican Council, particularly the Constitution Sacrosanctum Concilium (SC) on the Liturgy.

When Saint Augustine wanted to explain the mystery of the Body of Christ to those who were newly baptised, he took up the passage from Saint Paul that we have just heard: “Now you are Christ’s body, and individually parts of it.” (1 Cor 12:27). He adds: “It is your own mystery that you receive. To what you are, you respond: Amen, and your response is like your signature. You are told, ‘The Body of Christ,’ and you reply, ‘Amen.’ Be therefore members of the Body of Christ, so that your Amen may be true. [...] Be what you see, and receive what you are” (Sermon 272: PL 38, 1247).

Immediately after recalling Jesus’ Last Supper, the Constitution on the Liturgy speaks of the Eucharist in these Augustinian terms. For Christians, taking part at the Lord’s table means being “instructed by God's word and … nourished … [giving] thanks to God” (cf. SC, 48). It is by receiving Him in His Word and in the Eucharist that we become what we receive. We become the Body whose Head is the risen Christ, seated at the right hand of the Father (cf. Col 1:18), who prepares a place for us in heaven (cf. Jn 14:3). Thus, the Eucharist is the sacrament of the Kingdom that is to come. It is the Bread for the journey that leads us to our heavenly homeland, until that blessed day when “God will be all in all” (1 Cor 15:28).

The liturgical assembly offers the Sacrifice “not only through the hands of the priest, but also with him” (SC, 48). From this perspective, the Eucharist is the form of the spiritual sacrifice of Christians (cf. Heb 13:16; Rom 12:1), as the path to union with God and with one another. By participating in it, they learn “to offer themselves; through Christ the Mediator, they should be drawn day by day into ever more perfect union with God and with each other” (ibid.). Thus, by incorporating us into Christ, the Eucharist teaches us to adopt the very style of life of the Lord Jesus, which was marked by the free gift of Himself. This gift draws us into the dynamic of unity, offering a powerful antidote to the forces of division that undermine our world, our communities, our families, and our hearts (cf. SC, 47).

Dear brothers and sisters, when we participate in the Eucharist, we are invited to listen to the Word of God and to be nourished at the Lord’s table, where He offers Himself to the Father. These two parts of the Mass, the Liturgy of the Word and the Liturgy of the Eucharist, “are so closely connected with each other that they form but one single act of worship” (SC, 56).

With regard to the Word of God, it is important to remember that it is not merely a matter of acquiring intellectual knowledge of the Scriptures, but of receiving the Word that is “living and effective” (Heb 4:12), spoken by God to everyone and at the same time to each individual. This Word nourishes and sustains us together with the Eucharistic Bread and leads us from the decay of sin to new life in Christ. “The Eucharist opens us to an understanding of Scripture, just as Scripture for its part illumines and explains the mystery of the Eucharist.” (Benedict XVI, Verbum Domini, 55).

The Second Vatican Council called for the treasures of the Bible to be opened more abundantly, so that a richer fare from the table of God’s Word might be provided for the faithful (cf. SC, 51). The liturgical reform translated this request into the treasure that is the Lectionary, the book that gathers all the biblical readings for liturgical celebrations. This richness has been drawn from the purest source of the living Tradition, which combines fidelity with tradition; with openness to legitimate progress (cf. SC, 23).

The beginning of Chapter II of the Constitution on the Liturgy is woven with references to the great river of Tradition, that continues from the Fathers of the Church down to us. I will quote from it: “At the Last Supper, on the night when He was betrayed, our Saviour instituted the eucharistic sacrifice of His Body and Blood. He did this in order to perpetuate the sacrifice of the Cross throughout the centuries until He should come again, and so to entrust to His beloved spouse, the Church, a memorial of His death and resurrection: a sacrament of love, a sign of unity, a bond of charity, a paschal banquet in which Christ is eaten, the mind is filled with grace, and a pledge of future glory is given to us.” (SC, 47).

Dear brothers and sisters, let us draw with faith from this source of divine life and allow ourselves to be transformed by the mystery we celebrate.

I greet this morning all the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors taking part in today’s Audience, particularly groups from England, Sweden, Malawi, Tanzania, Indonesia, Singapore, South Korea, Canada and the United States of America. Upon all of you and your families, I invoke the peace and joy of our Lord Jesus Christ. God bless you!

24.06.26

Dear brothers and sisters, happy Sunday!

In today’s Gospel reading (Mt 10:26-33), Jesus sends the disciples out on their mission and addresses them with this exhortation: “What I say to you in the dark, tell in the light; and what you hear whispered, proclaim from the housetops” (v. 27).

He draws a parallel between what we hear “in private,” namely, what is in the secret of our hearts, and what we are called to proclaim to everyone. He reminds us that proclaiming the Gospel is first and foremost a sharing of a personal encounter with him, which is unique to each of us.

The strength of any apostolate, in fact — beyond techniques and tools — comes from the work of the Holy Spirit within us and from the authenticity of our response. Saint Thomas Aquinas spoke of preaching as passing on to others what we have contemplated: “contemplata aliis tradere” (cf. Summa Theologiae, III, q. 40, a. 1, ad 2).

We must not think that contemplation is an exclusive experience, reserved only for a few saints or for monks and hermits. We can all do it, by striving to set aside, amidst the commitments of our daily lives, quiet moments in which to enter into silence before God, to listen to his voice, to entrust our joys and concerns to him and to review our lives with him. This helps us to have a more firm and conscious faith, and consequently to be credible and free disciples, men and women capable of reflecting the light of the Gospel in every setting and every situation of life, and of bearing witness to it even where its value is not understood or accepted.

Saint Matthew — the author of the biblical passage that we mentioned — wrote for communities whose lives were not easy. They had to face hostility and persecution, as so many Christians still do today in various parts of the world. The temptation to become discouraged and to let weariness or fear get the better of them was great.

Now, just as then, it is a challenge to remain faithful to Jesus’ teachings and to proclaim his word: to respond to hatred with love, to arrogance with meekness, and to discouragement with perseverance. For this reason, we must deepen the roots of our faith and our mission in an intimate relationship with him (cf. Francis, Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii Gaudium, 8). This gives us the strength not to despair, but to continue to share with everyone, in every circumstance, his message of hope, love and peace. The world greatly needs it!

May the Virgin Mary help us to be missionary disciples of the Lord Jesus, each according to our own vocation.

Dear brothers and sisters,

World Refugee Day, established by the United Nations, was celebrated yesterday on the occasion of the 75th anniversary of the Convention relating to the status of refugees, which was adopted to protect those who are persecuted and forced to leave their homeland, homes and families. I hope that the spirit that inspired the drafting of this important international instrument may also continue to enlighten the consciences of national leaders today. No one can turn a blind eye to those who are seeking protection and safety. I also urge everyone to welcome those who are victims of persecution so that they may live in peace, with dignity, and look to the future with hope.

I would like to greet the members of the Catholic Pentecostal International Dialogue. “The Church believes as she prays,” and reflecting together on the principle “lex orandi, lex credendi” is particularly relevant nowadays.

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

Thinking of the pilgrims who have come from Brazil, I assure you of my prayers for the young people who died a few days ago in a road accident in the State of Ceará.

I greet the Confirmation candidates from two parishes in Ozieri, Sardinia.

I wish all of you a happy Sunday!

21.06.26

Dear brothers and sisters, good morning and welcome!

Today, I would like to share some reflections on the Apostolic Journey I made last week to Spain, visiting Madrid, Barcelona, the Abbey of Montserrat and the Canary Islands.

 After the long Journey in four African countries, this time I found myself immersed in a European country with an ancient and very rich Catholic tradition. And it appeared evident that today in Spain, which has experienced significant social and cultural changes, the Pope was welcomed everywhere with enthusiasm and readiness to listen. For this I give thanks to God and to the entire Spanish people, the King and the civil Authorities, the Bishops and the ecclesial communities.

The people of God gave me great comfort through the joyful expression of their faith and affection. For my part, I confirmed the faithful and, as Bishop of Rome, I encouraged them to overcome every form of division and conflict by always promoting communion, dialogue and unity in diversity. This is the very service of the Successor of Peter, a service which finds a specific expression in Apostolic Journeys, each time adapted to the ecclesial and social situations of the countries visited.

With regard to Spain, I was able to observe with joy that  people of all ages and situations had been looking forward to the Pope’s visit. I found multitudes [of people] everywhere, who welcomed me with great warmth. This was not something that was  taken for granted, and is worthy of reflection. Naturally such participation expresses, first of all, as I said, the faith of the Spanish people. At the same time, I believe it reveals a widespread need to find unity based on a true and deep foundation, one that is neither ideological nor based on partial interests — a foundation which, ultimately, can only be ensured by Christ, and is conveyed in the lives of people by the Gospel, through the necessary “inculturation”.  It can do so because its message fully responds to both these needs: the search for truth and the thirst for justice.

In Madrid and Barcelona, we gathered in the great Cathedral as well as in modern stadiums. We prayed the holy Rosary at the Abbey of Montserrat. We celebrated [Mass] at the Sagrada Família — a majestic symbol, a symphony of stones and light that speaks to everyone of the Christian mystery. This encounter of ancient and modern, Catholic tradition and contemporary culture enabled me to perceive first-hand the very character of Europe, its inestimable wealth, as a living reality, not a thing of the past. It is a heritage to be safeguarded with care, so that it may be invested in today’s global world with its momentous challenges: peace, integral ecology, equitable and sustainable development, and respect for human dignity. They are challenges that the Second Vatican Council had already clearly recognized, and to which the subsequent Magisterium returned, up to my recent Encyclical, Magnifica Humanitas, which aims to safeguard the human person in the time of artificial intelligence.

Through the various meetings, I sensed a need to hear from the Pope’s voice, the Gospel of hope for today’s humanity, which is sorely tried by the negative consequences of a deceptive model of development. I recognized this need, which found expression in the many testimonies I was able to listen to — testimonies that were sometimes moving, sometimes edifying — also and above all in the faces of the little ones and the poor whom I met:  the child who read his letter to me in the parish;  some victims of abuse, who ask to be heard;  the inmates who were waiting for me in the prison;  the young people filled with anxiety and aspirations;  the migrants in the reception centres in the Canary Islands.

It was precisely there, in the Canary Islands — the final stop of the Journey — that I was offered a comprehensive insight. It was offered to me, on the one hand, by the very geographical location of that archipelago; and, on the other, by the reality of a local Church which welcomes a large number of forced migrants,  mainly from Africa. We know that the   migration phenomenon is complex and requires organic and coordinated action plans. But this interpretation opens up a different, broader perspective: it enables us to understand how we are called to reread the Gospel in today’s world, exchanging the gifts of our respective cultures with each other, and in particular, the results produced in them by the fruitfulness of Christ’s message. And one of these fruits is precisely  dialogue between people and between peoples, an encounter in the spirit of fraternity, which enables us to discover and appreciate one another’s values. This journey is not easy. It requires goodwill and God’s help, but it is the path that leads to the civilization of love.

Dear brothers and sisters, the motto of this Apostolic Journey was “Alzad la mirada”, “Lift up your gaze!” (cf. Jn 4:35).  Jesus addressed these words to his first disciples, to teach them to see the desire for life, truth and fullness in people and in the crowds.  The Lord repeats those words to me first, and by his grace I also experienced them during this Journey. Today, I would like to share this invitation with you: let us lift up our gaze! Let us learn from Jesus to look at our neighbour, at people and at the world, “through God’s eyes”, that is, with love, respect and compassion.

Finally, I want to thank all those who prayed for the success of this Apostolic Journey, especially the contemplative nuns, who, thanks be to God, are very numerous in Spain. Continue to pray, so that, by the intercession of the Virgin Mary, the seeds I scattered may bear abundant fruit. Thank you!

I welcome with satisfaction the agreement reached between the Islamic Republic of Iran and the United States of America, which is to be signed on Friday, as an encouraging outcome of patient dialogue and negotiation. I express my gratitude to the countries that have worked to facilitate the meeting between the parties and make this agreement possible. I hope that this agreement may help to strengthen mutual trust, security and stability in the Middle East, by promoting paths of dialogue and cooperation among peoples.

Meanwhile, distressing news continues to emerge regarding the war in Ukraine, which continues to escalate: so many innocent victims, aid workers killed, churches and cultural heritage sites devastated by fire. My thoughts are with those who are mourning their loved ones, with the injured, and with those who, amidst the violence, continue to serve life with courage. I invite everyone to pray for an end to this war. Let us ask the Lord to open pathways to dialogue, to extinguish hatred, and to make a just and lasting peace possible.

II extend a warm welcome to all the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors taking part in today’s Audience, especially those coming from England, Cameroon, Taiwan, The Philippines and the United States of America.  As the summer holidays begin for many, may this time be an opportunity to grow closer to the Lord through moments of prayer and to support one another through generous acts of charity.  Upon all of you and your families, I invoke the peace and unity of our Lord Jesus Christ.  God bless you all! 

17.06.26

Dear brothers and sisters, Happy Sunday!

Today’s Gospel (Mt 9:36–10:8) brings us a great gift, for it draws all who hear it into Jesus’ gaze: it is a story that bears witness to the attentiveness of this gaze, as well as telling us what the Lord sees. We read, in fact, that Christ “When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless” (v. 36). Having become our brother, the Son of God looks at the people, he looks at humanity: he sees the oppression that burdens and the violence that causes strength to fade. He sees the wounds of war and the emptiness of consumerism. He sees faces reduced to masks, families torn apart by evil, and young people misled by false ideals. Jesus sees and loves. He loves and suffers for and with us: his compassion expresses not only fraternal closeness, but his desire to redeem.

For he knows our hearts and cares for us. Looking upon so many people like “sheep without a shepherd” (v. 36), Christ devotes himself to all as the Good Shepherd and, as Lord of the harvest, sends workers into the field of the world (cf. v. 38). What is their task? They must offer God’s comfort to those who suffer by bringing charity where there is misery, hope where there is affliction, faith where there is distrust.

The Gospel lists the names of the first twelve “workers:” they are disciples made apostles, that is, missionaries and preachers. Among them, the first we find is Simon, called Peter. But we also find Judas Iscariot, named last, to remind us that one can follow Jesus and betray him. Even so, the Gospel remains for all a living and true word. The Good News that spans the centuries is the same, always young, fresh, and liberating: “The Kingdom of Heaven has come near!” (Mt 10:7). Yes, it is near because in Jesus Christ, God draws near to every man and woman, to every people and nation. When this Gospel is proclaimed and lived out, evil crumbles like a disease that passes away (cf. v. 8), like a night giving way to dawn, like death conquered by the risen One.

This is how Jesus’ gaze transforms reality. Filled with love, his initiative gives birth to a new people, the Church, called to continue the mission of the apostles: “You received without payment; give without payment” (v. 8). Yes, Jesus’ gift is entirely gratis, for its value exceeds all measure: it is impossible to merit or “buy” it. This grace is the beautiful name of God’s mercy, which seeks us out wherever we are, to draw us to himself. “Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest” (Mt 9:38)!

Dear friends, the task of evangelization springs from God’s gift, which in Christ becomes forgiveness for the world, service to the least and the poor, and a commitment to justice. Let us invoke the help of the Virgin Mary, full of grace, so that we may respond with joy and courage to the mission to which Jesus calls us.

Dear brothers and sisters,

First of all, I express my gratitude to the Lord for the Apostolic Journey he has allowed me to undertake in Spain. I also thank the Spanish people who have welcomed me with great enthusiasm and devotion. I am especially grateful to His Majesty the King; I affectionately thank the Bishops, all the communities I visited and the entire Church in Spain. Que Dios bendiga siempre a España!

I would also like to recall some of the newly beatified: the diocesan priests Václav Drbola and Jan Bula, from Moravia; and Jan Šwierc and eight companions, Polish Salesian priests. All were beatified as martyrs, as victims of the persecution by totalitarian regimes because of their fidelity to Christ. Yesterday in Mato Grosso, Brazil, Nazareno Lanciotti, a Roman missionary priest, was also beatified; he too was a martyr, for he defended the poorest in the name of the Gospel. May the example and intercession of these courageous witnesses sustain the mission of priests and of the entire Church.

I assure the people of the Philippines, struck a few days ago by a powerful earthquake, of my closeness. I pray for the deceased and their families, for the wounded and for all those suffering because of this disaster.

And now I extend my greetings to all of you, Romans and pilgrims from various countries!

I greet the members of the International Commission for Dialogue between the Disciples of Christ and the Catholic Church. May your reflections help us to grow in communion.

I greet the pilgrims from the United States of America, in particular the faithful from New Jersey and the Carrollton School of the Sacred Heart in Miami, Florida. I greet the confirmands from Bergamo, the “Casa di Maria” Community — whom Pope Francis called “the children of the Immaculate”— and the parish groups from Santa Maria delle Grazie and Santa Francesca Cabrini in Rome.

I wish all of you a happy Sunday!

14.06.26

Dear brothers and sisters,

It is a blessing to come together on this day when the Heart of Jesus reveals itself to us as the heart of history.  I am happy to celebrate the Eucharist with you, giving thanks for the abundant witnesses of faith and charity I have experienced on this Apostolic Journey.  This is what makes the archipelago, so well known for its beauty and hospitality, a place where the Risen Lord precedes us and reveals himself to us.  The sea before us evokes the infinite, and so does the sky; but even more boundless is the infinite longing that joins the heart of God to so many human hearts, whose joys and hopes, sorrows and anxieties find an echo in the heart of the Church (cf. Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World Gaudium et Spes, 1).  No human being is an island. The geographical location of this diocese and the pastoral challenges it faces bear witness to the fact that we are born for encounter and that no obstacle, distance, danger or threat can prevent anyone from making the journey.  Whether we spend our whole lives in one place or choose — or are forced — to leave, no one remains unchanged. This is the secret of the heart: the inner call to exodus and to encounter.

But the Heart of Jesus shows us how not to get lost in a futile struggle: “God sent his only Son into the world so that we might live through him” (1 Jn 4:9).  It is in giving of ourselves that we truly live. Otherwise, we spin in a void.  Indeed, “as the Council recalled, human persons are called to communion with God and ‘can fully discover their true selves only in sincere self-giving.’  Indeed, their deepest vocation is to enter into the Trinitarian dynamic of love received” (Encyclical Letter Magnifica Humanitas, 48).  Pope Francis likewise observed: “Many people today sense a profound imbalance which drives them to frenetic activity and makes them feel busy, in a constant hurry, which in turn leads them to ride rough-shod over everything around them. This too affects how they treat the environment” (Encyclical Letter Laudato Si’, 225).  These words also challenge Tenerife in its vocation to hospitality, speaking both to the hearts of those who choose to spend their vacations here and to those of the people who live and work on the island, welcoming visitors from so many countries around the world.  What does the human heart seek?  How can we respond to its thirst in a way that is not disingenuous?  It is important, especially for those who are guided by the Gospel, not to reduce everything to commerce and profit.  “Those who enjoy more and live better each moment are those who have given up dipping here and there, always on the look-out for what they do not have. They experience what it means to appreciate each person and each thing, learning familiarity with the simplest things and how to enjoy them. So they are able to shed unsatisfied needs, reducing their obsessiveness and weariness” (Ibid., 223).  Understand your vocation to hospitality in this way, dear brothers and sisters.

Today’s Gospel seems to take this challenge to the extreme and reminds us of the wealth of the poor, a paradox that points directly to the life of Jesus, to his truth, to the path upon which he continues to ask us to follow him.  In the passage we have heard, he blesses the Father for this: that God has revealed himself to the little ones — to the least among us, to those whose thoughts and words are ignored. He has enriched them with what is hidden from those who are surrounded by admiration and success.  With the Apostolic Exhortation Dilexi Te, I wished to draw attention to the privileged place of the poor in divine Revelation and in the mission of the Church.

This mystery resonates in a unique way on these islands, at the centre of migratory routes that make them a place of initial welcome for brothers and sisters whose journey is generally exposed to unspeakable dangers and violence.  In the face of those who capitalise on despair, we Christians we can do more than exemplify the Lord who says: “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest” (Mt 11:28).  The greatest grace is to allow ourselves to be evangelized by those we assist and to recognise the mysterious wisdom of God written in their very flesh.  “Growing up in precarious circumstances, learning to survive in the most adverse conditions, trusting in God with the assurance that no one else takes them seriously, and helping one another in the darkest moments, the poor have learned many things that they keep hidden in their hearts. Those of us who have not had similar experiences of living this way certainly have much to gain from the source of wisdom that is the experience of the poor. Only by relating our complaints to their sufferings and privations can we experience a reproof that can challenge us to simplify our lives” (Dilexi Te, 102).  The Lord, who admonishes and corrects those he loves (cf. Rev 3:19), desires to make our lives simple and joyful.

Dear brothers and sisters, thank you for who you are and for what you do, for making this island a place of encounter with the heart of Christ in the friendly and hospitable faces of people and fraternal communities.  “So we have known and believe the love that God has for us” (1 Jn 4:16): may this confession of faith, handed down in the First Letter of John, always shine forth in you and inspire you to prayer and action.  Be attentive to teenagers and young people, to the rich and the poor, to residents and guests: all of them need to be looked upon with a gaze that sees beyond appearances and recognises the depth of their restless hearts, which not infrequently are already oriented, perhaps unconsciously, toward the Kingdom of God and his justice.  May it be evident among you that “God is love, and whoever remains in love remains in God and God in him” (Ibid.).  This is the heart of the Gospel, the heart of Christ.  Whoever immerses themselves in it no longer lives for themselves.  Open this sea of love to everyone!  This is my wish and my prayer for you and for all those who will come to know you.

I would like to express my gratitude to Your Excellency and to the people of Tenerife as well as their pastors and the civil authorities.

Dear brothers and sisters, this Eucharistic celebration marks the end of my Apostolic Journey in Spain. I give thanks to God and to all who have welcomed me and who, in countless ways, have helped prepare and carry out the various events in Madrid, Barcelona and Montserrat, and here in the Canary Islands.

I return to Rome deeply moved by the great affection I have received and comforted by the testimonies of faith and love for the Church, which are a testament to Spain’s profound Catholic spirit.

From this port, which bears the name of the Holy Cross, my thoughts turn to the whole world and its wounds, which cause entire populations to suffer. To all, I would like to offer the motto of this journey: “Lift up your gaze!”  Yes, let us turn our eyes to Christ Crucified; his Heart is the source of mercy, which alone can save humanity — which is in need of forgiveness and reconciliation — so that it may attain true and lasting peace. Let us lift up our eyes, as did Mary, the Mother of all who suffer, and guided by her, let us continue our journey with hope!

Beloved brothers and sisters, thank you from the bottom of my heart!  Let us remain united in prayer and in communion in Christ and in the Holy Church.

12.06.26

“O Lord, our Lord, how wonderful is your name in all the earth!” (Ps 8:1). With the praise of this psalm, so full of joy and wonder, I greet all of you, dear brothers and sisters. I express my gratitude to their Majesties. I thank Cardinal Juan José Omella, Archbishop of Barcelona, as well as my fellow bishops and all those who join us in prayer: priests, deacons and men and women religious. On this evening of celebration for the entire city of Barcelona, I extend grateful greetings to the public authorities, as well as to the members of other Christian communities and religions who are participating in our act of thanksgiving.

Today, the Basilica of the Sagrada Familia welcomes us to this beautiful city, opening its doors as though they were its arms, inviting each of us to this altar, to listen to the Word of God, which makes us a family loved by the Lord, nourished by his own life in the Eucharist. Thus, com la ciutat comtal and all Catalonia gather in this temple, as a sign of unity and harmony, and lift their gaze to encounter the face of God the Father, shining forth in his Son made man, Jesus Christ.

As we give thanks to the Lord for his love toward us, we praise him for his work in our lives. We thank him in particular for this extraordinary basilica, which Pope Benedict XVI consecrated in 2010, recalling that it is a visible sign of the invisible God, for whose glory its towers rise (cf. Homily for the Consecration, 7 November 2010). In continuity with the prayer of my Predecessor, in a few moments I will bless the highest tower, that of Jesus Christ.

This church is a single building made of many stones. A house that grows steadily over the years following a single plan. We are all the living stones of this edifice, which has Christ as its foundation and crowning glory, its beginning and end. Much more than a monument, the Basilica of the Sagrada Familia remains a work in progress today, reminding us that the Christian life is always a journey, because it is a project that God is carrying out.

We do not, therefore, dwell in an unfinished work, but in a temple still under construction. The fact that it is incomplete is not a flaw, for it bears witness to a desire; it does not signify a shortcoming, but rather expresses a promise that we wish to honour with consistency. Our gratitude thus becomes a commitment as we cooperate in God’s plan — that is, in the edification to which he himself calls us. Since we are the temple of the Holy Spirit (cf. 1 Cor 6:19), this work consists in our very lives, which God conceives as a masterpiece that we are to create together, and he calls us to collaborate with him (cf. 1 Cor 3:9).

In this regard, we hold dear in our hearts the words the Lord addressed to King David: “Are you the one to build me a house to live in?” (2 Sam 7:5). On the contrary, “the Lord declares to you that the Lord will make you a house” (v. 11). With this passage, Scripture teaches us that it is not we who make a dwelling for God, as if he were simply one thing among others or part of a whole greater than himself. Rather, it is God who makes a place for us, and the place he gives us is his own heart: the place of the Son, for us who were strangers; the place of the Beloved, for us who are sinners.

This desire of his is fulfilled through Jesus; we can then understand the meaning of what we heard in the Gospel, when the Lord says to the Pharisees: “you will die in your sins unless you believe that I am he” (Jn 8:24). These are strong words, which are by no means intended as threats or blackmail. They are an invitation to salvation — that is, a call to freedom extended by Christ, who desires for us the ultimate, eternal good. When faced with the threat of evil, the Lord is always with us, always on our side. “I am:” this is the Most Holy Name that God shared with Moses from the burning bush, revealing his unshakable faithfulness. As God made man, he becomes for us Emmanuel, the source of grace and forgiveness, of salvation and new life. That is why, if we do not believe in Jesus Christ, we remain in sin, and not only do we die, but we bring about the death of our neighbour. Dear brothers and sisters, we cannot believe in Jesus and promote war. We cannot believe in Jesus and kill the innocent even before birth. We cannot believe in Jesus and abandon those who suffer, those who weep, those who flee from misery.

Tonight, then, let us remember that la Creu de Crist, which crowns this Basilica, és la Creu dels últims who become the first, of sinners who become saints, of the dead who will rise again. The three facades of the Sagrada Familia bear witness to this: the First becomes the last for us at the Nativity; through his sacrifice, he redeems us through his Passion; his death gives us eternal life, making us sharers in divine glory. As we admire the tower of Jesus Christ, we lift our gaze toward him, toward the One who alone reveals to us the truth about God and the truth about ourselves. By looking at Christ, we can see the world with renewed eyes: the tower of the cross then becomes a banner of charity, for God loves us in this way, transforming an instrument of death into a sign of hope. In Jesus’ cross, our faith reaches its summit, as professed by the inscription found at the base of the spire: “Tu solus Sanctus, Tu solus Dominus, tu solus Altissimus.” This cross shines by day, reflecting the sunlight, and shines by night, illuminating the city like a lighthouse overlooking the Mediterranean.

Yes, the light of Christ shines in the darkness, even though the darkness has not received it (cf. Jn 1:5, 11). Yet this rejection does not mean that God’s love is lacking: “When you have lifted up the Son of Man,” says the Lord, “then you will realise that I am he, and that I do nothing on my own, but I speak these things as the Father instructed me” (Jn 8:28). It is necessary to pass through the passion of the crucified One to be enlightened by the glory of the risen One, for from the beginning, the Father teaches us to give our lives, and the Son, who receives life from him, gives it to all through the power of the Holy Spirit. This is precisely why the cross is the radiant sign of his love. 

It is faith that shapes the stones and gives meaning to the edifice we inhabit together. In our prayer, therefore, we discover the original bond between all things and God, the Creator of heaven and earth. He is the Artist who has imprinted his splendour upon the cosmos. Created in his image, humanity responds to God’s work with its own ingenuity: this is how the artist transforms talent into praise and creativity into a testimony to the Creator himself. As an architect inspired by faith, the venerable Antoni Gaudí designed this place with the desire to narrate the mysteries of the Lord’s life. In this way, he has proposed to us a spiritual pilgrimage, leading to an encounter with Christ who for our sake was born, died and rose again. Together with Gaudí, as we commemorate the centenary of his death, we remember and give thanks this evening to all the supporters and benefactors, the artists and the workers who cooperated in the construction of an architectural masterpiece, which is also an eloquent catechesis made of stones, colours and light. In her wisdom, the Church thus renews the Biblia pauperum of the ancient cathedrals, which are in themselves rich messages of evangelization. In this age in which image is so prevalent, it becomes even more evident how art and beauty are privileged channels of evangelization.

Dear brothers and sisters, the beauty of this church inspires us to learn ever more from our Master and Lord the art of living according to his Gospel. As we lift our gaze toward him, the crucified and risen One, let us commit ourselves to lifting up those who lie in the dust (cf. 1 Sam 2:8). And let us show in this way that the Sagrada Familia is the tallest church in the world, not so as to stand out in worldly rankings, but rather to guide the steps of the People of God who make their pilgrimage in Spain, with the Cross illuminating their path, like a lamp burning brightly as we await the return of the Bridegroom.

10.06.26

Your Eminences and Your Excellencies,

Dear priests, men, women religious,

Your Majesties,

Dear brothers and sisters,

As I begin my visit to Spain, it is with a heart filled with joy that I preside over this celebration on the Solemnity of Corpus Christi.

We are gathered around the Eucharist, the gift of Christ’s living presence among us. He who wished to offer us his life so that we might enter into communion with the Father and become his children, is here as the living Bread come down from heaven, to nourish us with the very life of God, with a love stronger than death.

This awareness of the Lord’s presence in the Eucharistic Bread is deeply rooted in the faith and the history of your people. Here in Madrid, as in many other parts of Spain, Corpus Christi is more than just another celebration on the liturgical calendar. It is a way of returning to the heart of the faith to renew our love and fidelity to God. The solemn processions held on this day have for centuries shaped the piety, art, music, architecture and life of the Spanish people. Even today, they still express and manifest the spiritual sentiments of this country through the beauty and elegance of the floral carpets, the altars erected in the streets, the carefully crafted monstrances and stands, the hymns and the liturgical vestments. This is not an exhibition, a remnant of folklore or a simple display of beauty. It is a profession of faith in the presence of the risen Lord, who is alive and continues to walk among us, who becomes bread to satiate our hunger for life, and visits the recesses of our hearts and history, even those shrouded in darkness.

Just as Christ gives himself as food in the Eucharistic celebration, the procession shows that he is not confined to the church, but comes out to meet us. Jesus travels the streets, crosses the squares and visits our neighbourhoods, dwelling in the settings of our daily lives. He is a God who is close to us, who walks with his people, the Lord of history. He is comfort to the weak, light for families, hope for the sick and peace for those who suffer.  The Christ who processes through the streets in the monstrance is the same one who identifies with the poor, the downtrodden, those who are alone and forsaken.  It is no coincidence that the Church here in Spain has long combined the Solemnity of Corpus Christi with the Day for Charity.

It is not merely a matter of bringing out the monstrance, but of allowing ourselves to be brought out of our selfishness and indifference, of a comfortable, private faith, so as to respond to his invitation to conversion, to change our perspective, and to welcome his presence which transforms us and makes us builders of a new world.

For this reason, the historical memory of the Corpus Christi processions is not confined to wistful nostalgia. Instead, it stands as an invitation in the present moment, in our daily lives, in our relationships, in society, and in the building of the future. It is in this context that we must understand the invitation to “remember” that we heard in the first reading: “Remember the long way that the Lord your God has led you these forty years in the wilderness” (Deut 8:3); remember how he fed you with manna when you were hungry. We must “remember” precisely so as not to forget who the Lord is, so as not to fall into the temptation of trusting in other idols and feeding on bread that does not satisfy.

Herein lies the task of Spain today and in the future: to ensure that the religiosity which has shaped and defined this country for centuries is not a museum of the past to be visited, but a school of faith from which to draw even today: A school that teaches us to kneel before God and before our neighbour, because no one can kneel before the Lord and despise their brother; A school that teaches us of the gratitude of love that becomes a gift, so that it may flow among us and break the chains of all selfishness; A school from which we learn that God is a real presence and that we too are called to be present in the realities and challenges of society, not shying away, but personally committing ourselves to the building of the common good.

Brothers and sisters, I wish to recall Saint Manuel González, the bishop of the abandoned tabernacle. His life reminds us that the Eucharist should be honoured not only during great celebrations or on special occasions, but also through the silent fidelity of those who accompany the Lord with a humble and quiet friendship that is nourished day by day. I would also like to bring to mind the poetic verses of Saint John of the Cross: “For I know well the spring that flows and runs, although it is night” (Song of the Soul that Rejoices in Knowing God through Faith). While imprisoned in harsh conditions in the convent prison of Toledo, precisely around the time of Corpus Christi in 1578, he recognized the hidden presence of the Lord in the darkness of his cell, a presence from which emanates a light that never fades and flows a life that never diminishes. The Eucharistic Jesus is “that eternal spring that is hidden” — a spring that flows and quenches thirst, yet without blinding, without imposing itself through outward power, without presenting itself in a spectacular way (cf. ibid.).

Let us return to him with sincere love. Let us open ourselves to the encounter with him, let us allow him to quench the thirst of our hearts, so that we may then go forth into the paths of life and history, bringing to the people this stream of fresh water, a stream of love, peace, justice and joy. Let us drink anew from this Eucharistic spring, which does not enclose us in private devotion, but sends us out to refresh our brothers and sisters, our families, the poor, the suffering, and those who have lost hope. Eucharistic grace transforms us and makes us protagonists of the transformation of history, a sign of hope for those we meet.

May the Lord Jesus, present in the Eucharist, transform you into bread that is broken, given, and offered, so that a life of fullness may spring forth for you, for your families, and for your country.

07.06.26

Dear brothers and sisters,

As we continue our catechesis on the Conciliar Constitution Sacrosanctum Concilium (SC), we wish to pause and reflect on some of the fundamental elements of the sacred liturgy, such as the rite, the sign and the symbol.

The Second Vatican Council, building on the valuable work of the Liturgical Movement, has helped us to rediscover a truth that was very much alive in the consciousness of the early Church and in the teaching of the Fathers. The rites of the Christian liturgy are not a mere external covering of the sacramental mystery, a collection of arbitrary ceremonies, but are the ecclesial mediation through which the divine gift reaches us. Precisely for this reason, the Council invites us to understand the Mysterium fidei which is realized in the liturgy through rites and prayers (cf. SC, 48).

The rite gives shape to liturgical action and, through it, to our lives, generating  a spiritual sensibility in us that makes us capable of savouring the presence of God through Jesus Christ. Naturally, this happens if we do not remain strangers or silent spectators (cf. ibid.) with regard to the liturgy, but rather participate in it fully  — body, mind and heart — in obedience to the Lord’s command. Through the sacred rite we are thus formed in listening to the Word of God, in giving thanks and in adoration, in fraternal sharing and in ecclesial communion. We discover that we are an assembly with many faces, united by the same faith.

The rite involves us in a well-defined sequence of gestures and prayers, which can sometimes be at odds with with our individual tendency towards spontaneity. Its logic, however, is not to constrain freedom within rigid frameworks. On the contrary, with the solemn simplicity of its rhythms, the rite interrupts our frenetic activities, leading us back to what is essential. We thus discover another dimension of action that is not guided by calculations of productivity, and another experience of time and space. In the rite, we experience a logic of gratuitousness, we find a pause that regenerates the heart, we recognize that we are preceded by divine grace and we learn to live in a rhythm inhabited by the Holy Spirit.

The grammar of the rite is interwoven with the signs and symbols proper to the liturgy. In it, as the Council states, “the sanctification of the man is signified by signs perceptible to the senses, and is effected in a way which corresponds with each of these signs” (SC, 7). The Catechism of the Catholic Church explores the value of these signs, recalling that “their meaning is rooted in the work of creation and in human culture, specified by the events of the Old Covenant and fully revealed in the person and work of Christ” (no. 1145). The sign of water is emblematic: from the origins of Creation to the Flood, from the crossing of the Red Sea to the Jordan, right up to the water flowing from Christ’s side, which becomes a sacramental sign of immersion in his death and resurrection.

“Sign” and “symbol” are terms that are often used as synonyms. In reality, a sign is symbolic when it is able to refer not only to an idea, but to an entire system of meanings and values. In this way, for example, when we are sprinkled with holy water, our awareness of the gift received at Baptism and our commitment to new life in Christ is rekindled. Secondly, symbols are essentially practical in nature, being first and foremost actions: some simple and common, such as kneeling and exchanging the sign of peace, or more demanding, such as the constitutive acts of each Sacrament. Above all, symbols have a unique performative and transformative dimension, both in relation to the material elements of which they are composed and to those who come into contact with them, engendering a sense of belonging, touching the heart and mind, and giving rise to authentic ecclesial relationships.

In the Apostolic Letter Desiderio desideravi, Pope Francis, echoing a statement by Romano Guardini, identified “the first task of the work of liturgical formation: man must become once again capable of symbols” (no. 44). We need to allow ourselves to be educated by the rites of the liturgy, caring for the beauty of our celebrations with a delicate touch and without arbitrariness, and committing ourselves to an authentic mystagogy. The experience of a living and devout liturgy, accompanied by appropriate mystagogical catechesis, is the best resource for reawakening in everyone that openness to the encounter with God which, in the logic of the Incarnation, can only take place by involving the whole person: spirit, soul and body (cf. 1 Thess 5:23).

I greet all the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors taking part in today’s Audience, particularly the groups from England, Sweden, Australia, Indonesia, Myanmar, the Philippines, South Korea, Canada, and the United States of America. I greet in particular the scholars and participants in the conference “Revising the World Medical Association Declaration of Taipei” and the organizing partners of the Global Summit, “Fostering Hope for Children.” As we prepare for the Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ, let us be strengthened by this divine gift and become witnesses of his love to all we encounter. God bless you!

03.06.26