News August 2026

Dear brothers and sisters, happy Sunday!

This Sunday’s Gospel (Mt 16:13-20) confronts us with a question that speaks to each of us on our journey of faith: Who is Jesus, truly, for me?

The Gospel passage makes us understand how decisive this question is for the experience of discipleship.  Indeed, although the twelve apostles had already shared so much of the life and ministry of their teacher, Jesus did not take for granted that they truly knew him or had understood the mystery of the Kingdom of God.  Thus, after asking them what people were saying about him, he addressed them directly: “But who do you say that I am?” (Mt 16:15).

Brothers and sisters, this is a fundamental question for the disciples of every age, and for each one of us.  Faith is not something given to us once and for all.  Rather, we continually need to rediscover the face of Christ and his Gospel, to enter more deeply into his message and to renew the choices we make in our lives, so that they may be consistent with what we profess.  In this way, we can overcome the temptation to think that we already know everything and to reduce faith to mere habit.

The question that is put to us each day — who is Jesus for me, and what does his presence mean in my life? — emerges especially in prayer and when we meditate on the Gospel.  Yet it also arises when we encounter the wounds and needs of our brothers and sisters, and in those relationships and situations that most deeply challenge our conscience.  In our daily lives, in short, we can discover whether the Lord Jesus is for us merely a great figure of history, who said and did important things, or the Christ of God, the One sent to bring us into the love of the Father and to transform our lives and the world in which we live.

Dear brothers and sisters, let us seek not to retreat into our own convictions and religious certainties, but to remain open to an authentic relationship with Christ.  At times, when it comes to the Christian faith, we may be content with what we have merely “heard,” with common assumptions or with what has been handed down to us, perhaps even with the best of intentions.  Yet Jesus calls us to give a personal response, to know him more closely and to allow ourselves to be shaped by friendship with him through an ever new encounter.  This may also ask us to follow unfamiliar paths and to make choices different from those we had imagined.

This is true both for our personal journey and for the journey of the Church, as well as for our pastoral choices, when we may sometimes think that it is enough simply to continue doing things as we have always done them.  Instead, it is important to ask ourselves often: Who is the Lord for me?  Do I truly know him?  What is his Gospel asking of me today?  What steps and what choices am I called to make?

Let us invoke the Blessed Virgin Mary, who sought the will of God in her heart through her Son, that she may always guide us along the path of faith.

Dear brothers and sisters,

In my prayers, I often remember the Democratic Republic of the Congo, especially in light of the spread of the Ebola epidemic, which is sadly claiming many lives. I encourage on the part of the international community a response that also involves local communities in efforts of prevention, so that many human lives may be saved.

I am also close to the people of the Central African Republic, who are mourning the victims of the collapse at a mine in Zamboyé. May the Lord receive those who have lost their lives and sustain efforts to ensure safety and respect for the law at mining sites.

Tomorrow marks the tenth anniversary of the earthquake that struck central Italy, affecting Lazio, Umbria and the Marche. I pray for the deceased and for their families, as well as for all the communities involved. May faith and solidarity continue to sustain the work of reconstruction.

I greet all of you with affection, Romans and pilgrims from various countries.

In particular, I extend a warm welcome to the Primatial Choir of Gniezno Cathedral in Poland; to the seminarians and faculty of the Pontifical North American College; and to the young people from Bormio and Valfurva.

I wish everyone a happy Sunday!

23.08.26

Dear brothers and sisters,

The sixth chapter of the Constitution Sacrosanctum Concilium (SC) of the Second Vatican Council is dedicated to sacred music. The document states that “The musical tradition of the universal Church is a treasure of inestimable value, greater even than that of any other art. The main reason for this pre-eminence is that, as sacred song united to the words, it forms a necessary or integral part of the solemn liturgy.” (SC, 112). It specifies that “Sacred music is to be considered the more holy in proportion as it is more closely connected with the liturgical action, whether it adds delight to prayer, fosters unity of minds, or confers greater solemnity upon the sacred rites. But the Church approves of all forms of true art having the needed qualities, and admits them into divine worship.” (ibid.).

Here we find the core of the Council’s teaching, which confirms and deepens the ministerial function of music in the liturgy, which had already been highlighted by Saint Pius X in the Motu Proprio Inter sollicitudines (22 November 1903). Music, indeed, is part of the liturgical action and is not merely a decorative part of the celebration. In the liturgy, to sing and to play music means to pray, attuning one’s heart to that of our sisters and brothers and to God, through active participation in the mystery that is being celebrated. In particular, music expresses the affective dimension of prayer, as Saint Augustine says: “Cantare amantis est”, that is, “singing belongs to those who love” (Sermo 336, 1). This is very important, because it helps us to open our hearts to God’s action in grace and to allow ourselves to be moulded by it.

Singing also fosters communion. It contributes to the unity of hearts, overcoming differences between people and bringing everyone together in praise of God through the symphony of voices. Thus, it becomes an epiphany of the Church, a tangible manifestation of the communion that belongs to her very nature.

Certain requirements arise from the profound theological significance of sacred song as an integral part of the liturgical action. The first is that it must respond at every level to what is most appropriate for the liturgical moment, beyond fashions or the particular sensitivities of composers. Its form, especially in its melodic aspect, must be at once noble and simple, of high musical quality and easily performable, particularly when it is intended to be sung by the whole assembly (cf. SC, 121).

For the same reason, the Council recommends that the texts too should be suitable, profound and at the same time readily understandable, inspired mainly by Sacred Scripture, the liturgical books and the spiritual Tradition of the Church. Attention must be paid to this, so that the dynamic expressed in the ancient principle lex orandi, lex credendi, that is, the law of prayer is also the law of faith, may remain alive and continue to grow.

Sacrosanctum Concilium devotes considerable attention to the theme of the active participation of the faithful (cf. no. 114). This “must be understood […] on the basis of a greater awareness of the mystery being celebrated and its relationship to daily life” (Benedict XVI, Apostolic Exhortation Sacramentum caritatis, 52), in a “spirit of constant conversion which must mark the lives of all the faithful” (ibid., 55). As for the concrete way in which this can be achieved through the specific role of sacred music, the Constitution offers a clear answer: “the people should be encouraged to take part by means of acclamations, responses, psalmody, antiphons, and songs” and “reverent silence” should be fostered (SC, 30). It urges each person, minister or member of the faithful, to perform “all of, but only, those parts which pertain to his office by the nature of the rite and the principles of liturgy” (SC, 28), in the harmonious balance between the different ministries, the various interventions and moments of silence.

The Council then attributes great value to Gregorian chant, without excluding other genres of sacred music from the celebration. Particular attention is also given to the organ (cf. SC, 120), while the use of other instruments is permitted “on condition that the instruments are suitable, or can be made suitable, for sacred use, accord with the dignity of the temple, and truly contribute to the edification of the faithful” (SC, 120).

A theme close to the Council’s reform is that of inculturation, including in the field of sacred music. In particular, with regard to the musical traditions of different cultures, the Council emphasizes the importance of taking them seriously into consideration, as they form part of people’s religious and social life. Therefore, on the one hand, an “attitude toward religion” should be promoted in everyone (SC, 119). On the other hand, as far as may be practicable […] every effort should be made to see that the traditional music of these peoples, both in schools and in sacred services may be promoted (cf. ibid.).

A particular role in the liturgical context is given to the schola cantorum. The Council recommends the promotion of this pastoral instrument, to ensure the “proper performance of the parts which belong to it, according to the different kinds of music sung, and to encourage the active participation of the faithful in the singing” (Sacred Congregation of Rites, Instruction Musicam sacram, 19).

For this reason, the composer of sacred music is called to know and preserve the musical heritage of the Church, allowing it to inspire new compositions at the service of the liturgy, while respecting contemporary sensibilities and the different cultural traditions, so as “‘purify worship from ugliness of style, from distasteful forms of expression, from uninspired musical texts which are not worthy of the great act that is being celebrated’, to guarantee dignity and excellence to liturgical compositions” (Saint John Paul II, Chirograph on Sacred Music, 22 November 2003, 3).

For all these reasons, the Council Fathers recommend promoting the formation and practice of sacred music “in seminaries, in the novitiates and houses of study of religious of both sexes, and also in other Catholic institutions and schools” (SC, 115), and ensuring that musicians and singers receive sound liturgical formation (cf. ibid.).

Dear brothers and sisters, the Fathers of the Church held liturgical singing in great esteem as a symbol of ecclesial communion. We can therefore conclude with these beautiful words of Saint Ignatius of Antioch: “Let each of you unite to become a choir, so that, harmonious in love and taking up the song of God in unison, you may sing with one voice through Jesus Christ to the Father, so that he may hear you and recognize, from the good works you perform, that you are members of his Son” (cf. Letter to the Ephesians, 4, 2).

I extend a warm welcome to all the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors taking part in today’s Audience, especially those from Malta. Upon you and your families, I invoke the joy and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ. God bless you all!

19.08.26

Dear brothers and sisters, happy Sunday!

Yesterday we contemplated the Virgin Mary in her unbreakable bond with her Son. Not even death could sever that union of persons in soul and body, which is eternal life. Every Sunday reminds us that the same fulfillment is reserved for those who follow Jesus. His resurrection is not a past event, but new life that draws us in.

This is demonstrated today by the Canaanite woman, who is the protagonist of the Gospel proclaimed at Mass (cf. Mt 15:21-28). Although she did not belong to his people and lived in a foreign land, she persistently sought to speak with Jesus, following him like a disciple who already had a bond with him. They had probably never met before, yet in a mysterious way, faith had already taken root in her. She does not desire anything for herself, but rather peace for her tormented daughter. She places her trust in Jesus, in whom she recognizes the Messiah, a descendant of David (cf. v. 22).

The Evangelist does not hide the obstacles faced by this woman. The disciples see her as a nuisance, and Jesus himself resists her pleas. The Master had actually withdrawn to that region (cf. v. 21), and we can imagine that, as on other occasions, he was seeking a secluded place to pray and instruct his disciples. At that moment, however, something unexpected happens. Reflecting upon this, we can understand Jesus’ obedience in fulfilling his mission by allowing himself to be moved by what he sees and hears. Finally, he says to her: “Woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish” (v. 28).

Even today, the Church can be surprised by God’s work and spread the peace of Christ beyond boundaries already drawn. Her mission is anticipated by divine grace, which works in the depths of our consciences, so that in every encounter — even those that disrupt our plans — we are to listen attentively by opening our eyes and hearts to what God wants to tell us.

From the Canaanite woman we learn humility and determination. Thanks to her faith, we learn that God’s table is set for everyone and that no one is left merely with crumbs (cf. vv. 26-27), because each person has his or her own place with the Father. In the light of this faith, inequalities, discrimination and barriers that trample on the dignity of too many of God’s sons and daughters become unbearable.

Dear brothers and sisters, we are the Church of Jesus Christ in a troubled world; a world that seeks peace. Let us ask Mary, our Mother, to intercede for us “because on her lips is proclaimed ‘the strongest and most innovative hymn ever articulated, the Magnificat’” (Magnifica Humanitas, 244). It is the song of one who now sees reality through God’s eyes and, for this reason, does not lose hope and acts in charity.

Dear brothers and sisters,

I renew my appeal for an end to the ongoing violence against the Palestinian civilian population in the West Bank, and I urgently call on the international community to work toward advancing the two-state solution, for a just and lasting peace.

The Mediterranean Games will begin this week in Taranto. They will include various countries from Africa, Asia and Europe that are part of the Mediterranean region. I hope this sporting event will be a sign of peace and friendship among the peoples of this region and the entire world.

And now I welcome all of you who have gathered here at Castel Gandolfo for the Sunday Angelus.

I warmly welcome pilgrims from various countries. In greeting the Polish pilgrims, I extend my blessing to the many women participating in the traditional pilgrimage to the Shrine of Piekary Śląskie, in Upper Silesia.

I wish everyone a happy Sunday.

16.08.26

Dear brothers and sisters,

Today we celebrate the Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary. This is a feast of great importance for both Catholic theology and popular piety. Indeed, it is a deeply cherished celebration in many communities, especially where the cathedral or parish church is dedicated to Our Lady of the Assumption.

To contemplate this mystery of the faith, we can turn to the two iconographic models that artists have used over the centuries to depict this event.

The first, which is also the oldest — having been the only one for nearly a millennium — depicts the Dormition of the Mother of God. She is shown lying on a catafalque, asleep in death; around her are the Apostles, who are moved to venerate her in prayer; and in the centre is the risen Jesus, holding Mary’s soul in his arms like a newborn child. Jesus came to take her to be with him in the glory of God, which we call heaven. In this way, the Lord fulfilled for his Mother what he had promised to all his friends: “when I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also” (Jn 14:3).

This first model highlights the central truth. Having died and risen, it is Christ who leads us to the destination for which we have been created, namely eternal life. This is what generations of the faithful have contemplated while praying before the icons of the Dormition, and what can be admired in Rome, in the great mosaic of the apse of the Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore.

The more recent iconography, which developed later in the West, depicts the Virgin Mary in full stature, in heaven, enveloped in light, often surrounded by angels and saints. In the centre of the image is the glorified body of the Virgin Mary, in accordance with what is written in the Book of Revelation: “A great portent appeared in heaven: a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve stars” (Rev 12:1).

Some artists have combined the two ideas, depicting the glorious Virgin at the top of the image and her empty tomb, often filled with multicolored flowers, at the bottom, with the Apostles gazing up at her in heaven.

This second model highlights the truth that Mary was assumed into heaven body and soul, that is in the entirety of her person. The woman who, on earth, gave flesh and blood to the Incarnate Word and followed him to the point of perfect union in the sacrifice of love was then drawn by him forever into glory.

In such a way, this iconography allows us to contemplate our ultimate destiny. The fullness of life, which we joyfully admire today in Mary, awaits us as well at the end of time, when, as Saint Paul says, the Risen Christ “will change our lowly body to be like his glorious body” (Phil 3:21), clothing what is perishable with incorruptibility and what is mortal with immortality (cf. 1 Cor 15:54). Then, with our flesh transformed by the love of the Redeemer, we will live forever in an endless celebration.

Let us praise the Lord, who has done great things in his and our Most Holy Mother!

The Blessed Virgin Mary, assumed into the glory of heaven, is a sign of hope and consolation for the entire People of God.  For this reason, I wish to invoke her maternal intercession today on behalf of those communities that are in particular need of consolation and of renewed hope.  My thoughts go out to our brothers and sisters in the Holy Land, which is also, par excellence, the Land of Mary.  My thoughts also go out to the Ukrainian and Russian peoples, both of whom are united by their filial devotion to the Holy Mother of God, and to Christians who suffer discrimination or even persecution.

I continue to pray for the people of Colombia who are suffering due to the earthquake.  I stand in solidarity with these communities and with all those living in difficult circumstances, and together with them I pray: “Holy Mary, pray for us!”

I extend my greetings to all of you, the faithful of Castel Gandolfo and pilgrims who have come from Italy and other countries. Thank you for your presence and thank you for your prayers!

I hope that everyone will be able to enjoy a time of rest, to recharge both body and spirit — perhaps with some good reading and time spent in nature.

Have a wonderful celebration today, and see you tomorrow!

15.08.26 a

Dear brothers and sisters,

It is with great joy that I celebrate the Solemnity of the Assumption with you once again this year.

The Magisterium of the Church teaches us that Mary “having completed the course of her earthly life, was assumed body and soul into heavenly glory” (Pius XII, Apostolic Constitution Munificentissimus Deus, 1 November 1950) and points out to us, in this Mystery, the fulfillment of the most perfect grace that God bestowed upon her at her Immaculate Conception (cf. ibid.).

For this reason, many works of art depict her as a beautiful young woman physically rising from the earth toward the heavens at the end of her earthly life. These works are inspired by the scene described in the passage from the Book of Revelation that we heard in the First Reading: “A woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet” (Rev 12:1), signifying that in Mary’s heart, heaven and earth, time and eternity, meet.

On the surface this image seems to contrast with our experience of what the passing of the years does to us. As we age, our bodies do not become more agile, but heavier; our skin does not become fresher, but shows the signs of old age; our hair does not gain color and luster, but turns gray and then white.  So, what do we have in common with the beautiful young woman depicted on the altarpieces of our churches?

To understand this, we must unite the two signs we have mentioned: the incorrupt body of the Mother of God and her immaculate heart. For it is the purity of the soul that, in Mary — as in us — by the grace of God, illuminates and transfigures the whole person, leading us to the glory of Heaven.

The glorification of Mary, body and soul, teaches us that our true beauty does not lie in hiding the signs of aging, but in revealing the signs of love that never end,  and are even impressed on our flesh (cf. 1 Cor 13:8).

With this in mind, we are invited to re-examine many of the aesthetic standards, predominantly hedonistic and consumerist in nature, that the world imposes on us. These standards risk trapping us in burdensome expectations, causing us to waste precious energy on what does not really matter and does not last forever.  In everyday life, we encounter people whose faces are marked by the years and by suffering, yet who are capable of radiating serenity, kindness and peace around them; just as we may observe others who are perhaps outwardly attractive but hard and cold at heart. It is easy to see where true beauty lies and where, on the other hand, there is still a need for conversion, forgiveness and healing.

If we truly wish to discover and nurture the divine beauty that surrounds us and for which we were made, and to share it with those around us, we must learn to see it in the wrinkles of an elderly person as in the tender face of a child as well, in the maturity of an adult as in the liveliness of a young person as well, in work clothes and tools as well as in festive decorations. We must listen to the unique love stories that each of these realities tells us, recognizing in them small glimpses of heaven.

Love is humanity’s most beautiful adornment. Love transfigures, transforms, ennobles and lifts us up, making us light, free and close to God, even amid life’s ups and downs.

Reflecting on the mystery of the Assumption of the Virgin, Saint Paul VI said that to understand its meaning, “we must transform the terms we use in earthly and temporal language into superlative and absolute ones […], to imagine the eternal on a small scale” (Homily, 15 August 1969). Regarding the encounter between the infinite and the finite in the Mother of God, Pope Francis wrote: “Mary was able to turn a stable into a home for Jesus, with poor swaddling clothes and an abundance of love” (Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii Gaudium, 286).

The miracle that Mary, the maiden of Nazareth, experienced in her innocent heart, which led her to the glory of Heaven, is a meeting of extremes, as she herself testifies in the inspired words of the Magnificat, which we heard in the Gospel (cf. Lk 1:46–55).  In this canticle, through the humble expressions of her faith, the Mother of God speaks to us in simple terms of the magnificent mysteries she experienced, such as God becoming man in her to save humanity, and the Eternal One revealing himself within time to reopen the path to eternity for us.  At the same time, in her position as a “humble servant,” Saint Paul VI says that Mary shows us the “humble dimension” in which we too can encounter the Lord.

We need not look far to find the sublimity of the Mystery we celebrate. We can encounter it wherever there is true charity.  For example, in the eyes of a father and mother returning home after a long day, tired but happy to be with their children. In the faces of grandfathers and grandmothers who, despite the aches and pains of old age, are filled with unexpected energy as they care for their grandchildren. In the commitment of young people who strive to grow in morality and sincerity, ready even to go against the grain of “what everyone else does.” Finally, in the daily work of so many men and women who, with faith and dedication, help bring a little bit of Heaven to earth and the earth closer to Heaven.

Dear friends, the beautiful face of Our Lady of the Assumption is unique; it transcends any possible representation, and yet, at the same time, is familiar to us.  Even at this very moment, we can see her face in the people who are close to us, such as the brothers and sisters with whom, in faith, we share the daily offering of our lives. For this reason, the community of believers sees itself in the woman of the Book of Revelation, and the Second Vatican Council describes Mary as “the image and beginning of the Church, […] as a sign of sure hope and solace” (Dogmatic Constitution Lumen Gentium, 68). I n her holy human nature, by the grace of God, we also see our nature; therefore, we too are called to live the same grace-filled life that she lived and to share in her glory.

When speaking of Christ’s resurrection, Saint Augustine urged the Christians of his time to make it the compass and focal point of their lives. He said: “Christ rose from the dead so that He might never die again […]. Change course, follow the light! Begin to rise from the very place from which he rose” (Enarratio in Psalmos, 126:7).

Let us accept his invitation. Let us follow the light of the Risen Lord, changing course if necessary. Let us do so, especially today, by looking to Mary, whom God has crowned with glory in body and soul, and whom he has given to us as Mother, guide, companion on our journey, and protector on the path to Heaven.

15.08.26 m

Dear brothers and sisters,

The fifth chapter of the Conciliar Constitution Sacrosanctum Concilium (SC) is dedicated to the liturgical year, a theme we would like to look at today, to explain its value in the life of every believer.

First of all, it is important to note that this way of referring to the cycle of Christian feasts as the ‘liturgical year’ became widespread in ecclesiastical language thanks to the work of the Servant of God, Abbot Prosper Guéranger (1805–1875).

In the Encyclical Mediator Dei, Pope Pius XII states that it “is not a cold and lifeless representation of the events of the past, or a simple … record of a former age. [The liturgical year] is rather Christ Himself who is ever living in His Church. Here He continues that journey of immense mercy which He lovingly began in His mortal life … with the design of bringing men to know His mysteries and in a way live by them. These mysteries are ever present and active” (III Divinum Officium et Annus Liturgicus, II Cyclus Mysteriorum). The liturgical year should thus be understood as a constant renewal of the work of salvation which Christ accomplishes in history. As she journeys through this temporal cycle, the Church remains in contact with the Lord’s redemptive action, so that all the faithful may be filled with His grace (cf. SC, 102c).

The encounter with Jesus, who died and rose again for us, is the purpose that the Church always pursues, placing the celebration of the Paschal event at the centre of every moment.

Hence the Council Fathers considered “the foundation and kernel of the whole liturgical year” to be Sunday, “the original feast day” (cf. SC, 106). In various modern languages, its name indicates that it is the “dies Domini”, “the Lord’s day”. Even in those languages where the reference to the “day of the sun” (Sunday, Sonntag) has prevailed, the link with Christ can be discerned: Christ is the true “sun of righteousness” who enlightens every person!

Saint John Paul II, in the Apostolic Letter Dies Domini (31 May 1998) teaches that Sunday is the day of the Lord, the day of the Church, the day of man and, finally, the “day of days”. “Since Sunday is the weekly Easter, recalling and making present the day upon which Christ rose from the dead, it is also the day which reveals the meaning of time. … Springing from the Resurrection, it cuts through human time, the months, the years, the centuries, like a directional arrow which points them towards their target: Christ’s Second Coming. Sunday foreshadows the last day, the day of the Parousia” (75), when we shall all rise again.

To sanctify Sunday, it is fundamental to celebrate the Eucharist. Listening to the Word and partaking of the Body of Christ entail, according to the Council Fathers, the coming together in unum (cf. SC, 106), that is, the joyful gathering of the faithful. In this assembly, the Christian community makes visible its communion with the Lord and bears witness to its belonging to Christ and its fidelity to the Church. This assembly cannot be substituted by a solely virtual presence, nor can it be reduced to a merely passive gathering. The liturgical assembly is in fact fulfilled through the active participation of brothers and sisters, called together to “thank God who ‘has begotten them again, through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, unto a living hope’” (1 Pet 1:3) (ibid.).

In this regard, I urge everyone to seek the best possible conditions so that even those who are unable to take time off work on Sundays may take part in Holy Mass.

Dear friends, the liturgical year, punctuated by Sundays, has an interesting history, in which the faith and devotion of the Church are interwoven. Indeed, from as early as the second century AD, the celebration of the weekly Easter was joined by that of the annual Easter, the “most solemn festival” (SC, 102), extending over the most joyful period of fifty days, culminating in Pentecost, and prepared for by the season of Lent with its penitential character (cf. SC, 109). The development of the Christmas cycle, which took place later and was modelled on the Paschal cycle, has made it possible to relive the mysteries of the Incarnation of the Word of God, of His birth and of His manifestation to the world.  The Church then incorporated into the various times the veneration of the Blessed Virgin Mary, “joined by an inseparable bond to the saving work of her Son” (SC, 103), and “the memory of the martyrs and the other saints” who “sing God’s perfect praise in heaven and offer prayers for us” (SC, 104).

The liturgical year thus repeats, in sacramental form, the teaching of the history of salvation, guiding the faithful from the expectation of the Messiah to the fullness of the Paschal Mystery and to the anticipation of future glory. In it, the Church celebrates the salvific relevance of the mystery of Christ, enabling believers to participate in it ever more deeply. For this reason, the liturgical year constitutes the guiding principle and the essential framework for all pastoral action.

I greet all the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors taking part in today’s Audience, particularly the groups from Malta and Zimbabwe.  Upon you and your families, I invoke the joy and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ. God bless you all!

12.08.26

Dear brothers and sisters, happy Sunday!

Today’s Gospel speaks of Jesus approaching his disciples by walking on the waters of the Sea of Galilee in the midst of a storm (cf. Mt 14:22-33).

Following the miracle of the loaves and fish (cf. Mt 14:13-21), the Master urges his disciples to get into the boat and set out, while he withdraws to the mountain to pray by himself. Once away from the shore, the disciples find themselves at the mercy of the wind and struggle to make headway. After a successful experience in which they had been the protagonists of a miraculous sign, they now find themselves helpless and frightened in the face of the threat of the waves and the headwind.

As the night was drawing to a close, Jesus came towards them across the choppy waters, and, terrified, they mistook him for a ghost (v. 26). But he said to them, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid!” (v. 27). The Lord’s presence changes everything: Peter even manages to take a few steps across the waves towards him; but then losing his nerve, he begins to sink, and Jesus saves him. When the Master then steps into the boat, the storm subsides, and a profession of faith spontaneously springs out of the disciples’ hearts: “Truly, you are the Son of God!” (v. 33).

To realize this point, it was not enough for them simply to have witnessed a miracle, nor to have succeeded in the eyes of the people; instead, they had to experience their own weakness and, within it, recognize God’s presence. Only this experience could open their eyes and hearts to his closeness, finding peace even in the midst of the storm.

Sometime later, Jesus would say to them: “If you have faith and do not doubt… if you say to this mountain, ‘Be lifted up and thrown into the sea,’ it will be done” (Mt 21:21). This is similar to what they experienced on the lake: the peace of Christ, who had been on the mountain praying, reached them in the midst of the raging waters.

This miracle, then, teaches us something important. First, not to get carried away by success and never to be presumptuous. At the same time, not to despair, even in moments of darkness, when we feel powerless in the face of problems and, despite our efforts, it seems as though we are going backwards rather than forwards. Whatever the circumstances, Jesus does not abandon us, and if we humbly welcome him into the boat of our lives — through prayer, the sacraments and listening to his Word — in him, we will find peace, light and strength for our journey.

May Mary, who was proclaimed blessed for her faith (cf. Lk 1:45), help us to live in a trusting surrender to God.

Dear brothers and sisters,

I continue to follow with concern the tragic situation in Sudan, especially in the city of el-Obeid. In expressing my spiritual closeness to all the people of the nation, I renew my appeal to those in authority to guarantee humanitarian corridors for the civilian population. At the same time, I urge the international community to support efforts aimed at bringing about an immediate ceasefire. Let us pray that the Lord may sustain those who are suffering, convert the hearts of those who sow violence, and grant the long awaited peace.

Distressing reports continue to arrive of innocent people being killed and injured in Ukraine and Russia. These incidents are occurring one after another, indeed they are multiplying, resulting in ever-increasing numbers of civilian victims, including children. My thoughts are with the victims’ families, the wounded and all those who are suffering due to the ongoing conflict. In the face of so much anguish, I renew my heartfelt appeal for humanitarian law to be respected and for both sides to cease attacks on civilian targets. War only begets more war and causes immense suffering. It is time to put an end to this vicious cycle of violence and make room for diplomacy and dialogue, so as to open the way to peace.

And now I offer a warm welcome to all of you, Romans and pilgrims from different countries!

I greet in a special way the young people from the Saint Mary Magdalene Community of the Archdiocese of Milan, who have walked the Via Francigena from Siena to Rome; as well as the Scouts from Enna, who have held their camp in the Roman Hills; and the young people from Pernumia, in the Diocese of Padua.

The presence of so many youth groups, who chose to devote part of their summer vacation on formation activities and friendship, is a sign of hope, as was the gathering of the young Franciscans whom I had the joy of meeting last Thursday in Assisi.

To all of you, young men and women who are listening to me, I would like to remind you that in these days the liturgical calendar offers us some wonderful examples of holy men and women, whom I invite you to get to know them better. Yesterday was the great Saint Dominic, founder of the Order of Preachers; today, Saint Teresa Benedicta of the Cross, Edith Stein, the Carmelite who was killed at Auschwitz and is Co-Patroness of Europe; tomorrow, Saint Lawrence, deacon of the Church of Rome; and the day after tomorrow, Saint Clare of Assisi, who left a life of comfort to follow Jesus, poor and humble, in the footsteps of her fellow citizen, Saint Francis. Dear young people, allow yourselves to be inspired by these exemplary witnesses to the Gospel!

Thank you all for being here, and have a blessed Sunday!

09.08.26

Dear brothers and sisters,

Dear young people!

The Feast of the Transfiguration, which we are celebrating, is a mystery of light that enriches our encounter — one that is so joyful, yet also raises questions about the present and the future. In the Gospel, we find the contrast between light and shadow, silence and words, wonder and incomprehension. Today, we are in Assisi, a city to which countless pilgrims have made their way for centuries, because here everything whispers that our lives can take on a new form, radiate light and heal the world. It was here that the transformation of Francis, Clare and then thousands of other young people began. They embraced the Gospel sine glossa — we could say, in its simplicity — then the life of Jesus began anew within them.

We have come here to understand where history is heading and where we ourselves are going. In the Gospel, we see that meaning can indeed be found, that a path can be glimpsed. Like Peter, James and John, we too have been brought a little aside, and Jesus is with us. What matters is his presence. On the mountain, the apostles contemplate Jesus, who had been speaking about his own future, which had caused a misunderstanding among them. Six days earlier, Peter had taken issue with the Master for speaking openly about the cross (cf. Mt 16:21–26) because he expected glory for the Messiah, and perhaps even for himself. Peter did not consider any opposition or risks, and especially did not ask himself what glory really means. Now, in Jesus’ Transfiguration, God himself reveals his glory, which takes the form of a cloud that protects and envelops. He points to his Son and invites us to listen to him. The path of life is discovered by following him together. The beauty of this path takes on a new dimension, an unprecedented intensity, so much so that Peter would like to stay awhile and prolong that vision. He generously offers to build three tents as he would like that conversation between Jesus, Moses and Elijah to continue. However, one must enter into that conversation, not remain a mere spectator. Indeed, we are called to read the Scriptures with the Master, to interpret our own times and to make decisions by following his path. We have come here to overcome resignation and fear, to dispel the doubts that hold us back, just as they held back the apostles. Jesus calls us to engage with his story in order to write new pages of history.

As we hear that “his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became as white as the light” (Mt 17:2), we recall Easter morning when an angel of the Lord rolled away the stone sealing the tomb and brought the announcement of the Resurrection. “His face was like lightning, his robe white as snow” (Mt 28:3). That is the light of a new day, toward which we are drawn, even as darkness still surrounds us — and sometimes dwells within us. We see the dawning light in the canonized saints, such as Saint Francis and Saint Clare, and in a myriad of brothers and sisters who respond to evil with good. We are not alone! In recent days you have experienced this, since you have met and listened to one another, moving beyond the clamor of overlapping and conflicting voices to the art of conversation. Today, we contemplate Jesus, who is transfigured precisely in conversation with the Father, with those who preceded him — Moses and Elijah — and with his contemporaries, the disciples.

The Church exists to lead us into this dynamic of listening and decision-making, in which we come to understand for whom we are to live and how we are to live. The Church is the community in which we learn to discern the voice of God, which never simply coincides with our own opinions, and to dare to obey the Holy Spirit, who makes bold and creative all those who choose to follow Jesus. While we are “disfigured” by separating ourselves from him and from others, we are transfigured through the bonds that nourish and call us to life. Franciscan spirituality, in which you have been formed, is among the most attentive to restoring fundamental relationships with God and with all his creatures. Today, more than ever, this is a harmony that needs to be safeguarded and cultivated.

In this regard, at the beginning of my first Encyclical, I suggested that “Each generation inherits the task of shaping its own era, of guiding history to become a place where the dignity of every person is safeguarded, justice is promoted and fraternity is made possible. Yet every era also runs the risk of creating an inhumane and more unjust world. Whenever humanity is in danger of marring its true identity, we Christians lift our eyes to the Incarnate God, knowing that it is ‘only in the mystery of the Word made flesh that the mystery of humanity truly becomes clear.’ In Jesus Christ, this humanity in its grandeur becomes the Way, the Truth and the Life, opening the path for each of us to grow toward fullness” (Magnifica Humanitas, 1).

Dear friends, the reason why Saint Francis still draws us to himself, even eight hundred years after his death, lies in the grandeur of humanity that led him to abandon familiar ways in order to find a new path that is more consistent with that of Jesus. Even in a town that had been Christian for centuries, such as Assisi, this seemed revolutionary. “Clare’s choice was even more striking: a girl who wanted to be like Francis, who wanted to live, as a woman, as free as those brothers!” (Jubilee Audience, 4 October 2025). This is the energy of Christianity — the energy of its beginnings and of its many new beginnings.

Well then, dear young people, today Europe and the whole world are looking to you to be new saints. Dare to believe in the word of the Gospel; become fully human with the freedom of Jesus Christ; embrace Sister Poverty! The title of your gathering, Go!, is a mission, a sending forth onto paths for which we have no maps, because they are opened by listening to the heart, obeying the Holy Spirit, and following the Risen One wherever he has chosen to go before us. Go! Go! Or better yet: let us go! Let’s go to the margins, where the injustice and arrogance of a few deny the dignity and dreams of many, of far too many sons and daughters of God. Pope Francis, drawing inspiration from the Poverello of Assisi, warned us against the temptation “to be that kind of Christian who keeps the Lord’s wounds at arm’s length. Yet Jesus wants us to touch human misery, to touch the suffering flesh of others. He hopes that we will stop looking for those personal or communal niches which shelter us from the maelstrom of human misfortune” (Evangelii Gaudium, 270).

We may not be understood, even by those closest to us, as happened to Saint Francis. Yet, breaking free from the culture of power, and tearing down the walls that separate human beings from one another, is never a betrayal of our families, towns or traditions. Instead, it means freeing them from their ghosts, from enemies invented out of fear or ignorance and from the violence with which people seek to impose their own limited order on a reality that surpasses us on every side. To trust in God is to rediscover, like Francis and Clare, a world of brothers and sisters to cherish and serve, not to exploit and dominate. Not a world to defend, but to embrace.

Commit yourselves, dear young people, to the civilization of love, whose first signs you have encountered in so many examples of selfless giving, and which — in the image of Christ — transforms countless peacemakers who, even today, are committed to serving life in the most tragic situations of death. Unite the best energies of your magnificent humanity: your studies, skills, work, friendships, love and prayer, so that you can bring Saint Francis’ vision to life in many different ways. I imagine you hold dear the prayer often attributed to him, a text from the last century:

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.

Where there is hatred, let me bring love.

Where there is offence, let me bring pardon.

Where there is discord, let me bring union.

Where there is error, let me bring truth.

Where there is doubt, let me bring faith.

Where there is despair, let me bring hope.

Where there is darkness, let me bring your light.

Where there is sadness, let me bring joy.

That is “where” to go. But here, especially, is “how” to go:

O Lord, grant that I may not so much seek

to be consoled as to console,

to be understood as to understand,

to be loved as to love,

for it is in giving that one receives,

it is in self-forgetting that one finds,

it is in forgiving that one is forgiven,

it is in dying that one awakens to eternal life.

Dear friends, may these days in Assisi remain etched in your memory, and may your return home, to the various countries of Europe to which you will travel, be like the descent of Peter, James and John from the high mountain of the Transfiguration. May your return be reflective, open to the future and committed to Jesus Christ. He trusts you, counts on you and remains always with you.

06.08.26 m

Brothers and sisters, good morning and welcome!

In this catechism, we will resume our reflection on the Conciliar Constitution on the liturgy, Sacrosanctum Concilium (SC). Today we will look at the ecclesial dimension of liturgical prayer.

As the Apostle Paul suggests, it is the Holy Spirit who teaches us to pray. From the day of Pentecost, the Spirit dwells in the Church, inspiring every one of her activities and, in particular, prayer. The life of the first community, born in Jerusalem after the Pasch of Jesus, is life in the Spirit given by the risen Lord. “From that time onwards the Church has never failed to come together to celebrate the paschal mystery: reading those things ‘which were in all the scriptures concerning him’ (Lk 24:27), celebrating the Eucharist in which ‘the victory and triumph of his death are again made present’, and at the same time giving thanks ‘to God for his unspeakable gift’ (2 Cor 9:15) in Christ Jesus, ‘in praise of his glory’ (Eph. 1:12), through the power of the Holy Spirit” (SC, 6).

In our time, in contexts dominated by an efficiency-driven and consumerist mindset, prayer may seem pointless and trivial. In a world where science and technology claim to provide all the answers, praying may appear to be a form of escapism. Furthermore, even in many Christian families, the tradition of prayer is no longer passed on, whilst many people risk confusing it with just another technique, of a psychological nature aimed at personal well-being. Prayer, however, as a fundamental dimension of our humanity, is worth rediscovering in its true form.

The Constitution Sacrosanctum Concilium took this need seriously. This greatly pleased Pope Saint Paul VI, who, on promulgating this first document approved by the Second Vatican Council, stated: “God comes first; prayer is our primary duty; the liturgy is the primary source of the divine life communicated to us, the primary school of our spiritual life” (Address, Saint Peter’s Basilica, 4 December 1963).

Indeed, in the Constitution, the term “prayer” designates the liturgy as a whole. This perspective is decisive, for it guided the liturgical reform, making the active participation of the faithful its central pillar. The liturgy is presented first and foremost as the place of encounter, of God’s initiative in drawing near to humanity in his Son, “the Word made flesh, anointed by the Holy Spirit” (SC, 5), to whom we may respond “through Christ, with Christ and in Christ, in the unity of the Holy Spirit”, that is to say, thanks to “the very prayer which Christ Himself, together with His Body, addresses to the Father” (SC, 84).

For this reason, Saint Paul VI ardently desired that the Liturgy of the Hours, the Church’s daily public prayer, inseparable from the Eucharist, might deeply permeate, enliven, guide and express all Christian prayer, and effectively nourish the spiritual life of the People of God (cf. Apostolic Constitution Laudis canticum).

For this desire to be fulfilled, the Liturgy of the Hours needs to be more fully embraced and lived out in the daily lives of the baptised and of the communities. To the many people who wish to learn to pray, especially catechumens, it can offer the path and the school of Christian prayer.

Every week and every day, the Eucharist and the Liturgy of the Hours are the breath of the life of the Church, which makes the Holy Spirit circulate through her Body. In this prayer, Christ “joins the entire community of mankind to Himself, associating it with His own singing of this canticle of divine praise” (SC, 83). In this way, day by day, we are ever more united with the Paschal Mystery and conformed to him.

Saint Augustine affirms that “When we speak to God in prayer for mercy, we do not separate the Son from Him; and when the Body of the Son prays, it separates not its Head from itself: and it is one Saviour of His Body, our Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who both prays for us, and prays in us, and is prayed to by us. He prays for us, as our Priest; He prays in us, as our Head; He is prayed to by us, as our God. Let us therefore recognize in Him our words, and His words in us” (Enarr. in psalmum LXXXVI: PL 37, 1081).

Bound to the Eucharist, whose light it prolongs, the Liturgy of the Hours sanctifies the time of our daily lives: in the morning, we begin the day with faith and gratitude; at midday, we ask for the strength to remain faithful amidst our labours; in the evening, once our work is done, Vespers accompany the moment of sunset; at night, we fall asleep entrusting ourselves to God’s peace. Each Hour is an act of hope: during our earthly pilgrimage, we keep watch, awaiting with the whole Church the glorious return of the Lord.

I extend a warm welcome to all the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors taking part in today’s Audience, especially those from England, Malta and the United States of America. Upon you and your families, I invoke the joy and peace of our Lord Jesus Christ. God bless you all!

05.08.26

Dear brothers and sisters, happy Sunday!

When we listen to the Gospel, we frequently hear that Jesus performed signs, which are acts that reveal his special dedication to us and the salvation that he brings to the world. The Lord is presented as the One who gives meaning to our lives, freeing us from evil and sin.

By restoring sight to the blind and hearing to the deaf, Christ is doing more than merely performing miraculous deeds; he is proclaiming to all that the Kingdom of God is near. In this way, today’s Gospel (Mt 14:13–21) bears witness that Jesus not only restores the senses of those who lack them, but that he also fills our senses with good things. To the deaf man, who regains his hearing, the Lord proclaims the Good News to be heard; to the blind man, who regains his sight, he shows the magnificent work of redemption being accomplished for him. Similarly, Jesus gives food to those who are hungry. The account of the multiplication of the loaves shows us that the encounter with the Lord is a nourishing experience. In the desert, that is, when we are in need, Christ is the bread of life. With him, our needs are abundantly met: “All ate and were filled,” and there were “twelve baskets full” left over (v. 20). This number highlights that the Lord’s gift is universal, and that his providential care for us never fails.

Dear friends, Christ truly satisfies humanity’s hunger, our hunger for truth and life. His gesture teaches us that nothing is discarded when it is shared. Hoarding and waste, on the contrary, are two sides of the same evil: greed. This spiritual sickness numbs the senses, which become intoxicated with wealth, to the point of making people forget those who weep from hunger and cry out from thirst. And so, in the face of an opulence that reeks of decay, we find the outstretched hands of those who have no nourishment, the burned homes of those who have no peace.

Faced with the deserts of war and arrogance, let us consider with what kindness the Lord “looked up to heaven, and blessed,” “broke the loaves, and gave them” to his disciples, so that they might distribute them to the crowd (cf. v. 19). In this miracle of charity, we recognise the characteristic actions of Jesus, which find their culmination in the Last Supper, for it was then that the Son of God gave us his very life as our brother in humanity. As we savor the grace of the Eucharist, let us commit ourselves to bearing witness to its beauty in our daily actions, beginning with blessing meals at the table with family and friends. In Jesus’ company, even vacations can become a time of fraternal serenity, if we reach out to our neighbours in need.

Let us therefore ask the Virgin Mary, our loving Mother, to help us grow in charity, so that no one may lack their daily bread.

Dear brothers and sisters,

I am following with concern the alarming situation in Ceuta, praying to God that, through the intercession of Our Lady of Africa, solutions may be found to bring peace, stability and justice.

Let us continue to pray for peace, that wars may cease throughout the world and diplomatic solutions to conflicts may be found.  Let us remember all the victims of hostilities, especially the weakest and most defenceless: children, the elderly and the sick.  May the Lord comfort those who suffer and bless the work of those who bring aid and consolation.

In these days the “Pardon of Assisi” is celebrated.  Saint Francis obtained this Indulgence from Pope Honorius III in 1216, having been inspired — while praying at the Porziuncola — by a vision of Jesus and Mary surrounded by angels.  Let us thank the Lord for this great gift and treasure it, especially in this eighth centenary year of the Transitus of the Poor Man of Assisi, who died at the Porziuncola on 3 October 1226.

I greet all of you, Romans and pilgrims from various countries: in particular, the “Giovanissimi” from the parishes of Saccolongo and Creola (Padua), the young people from the parish of Saint John Bosco in Altamura, and the youth from the Pastoral Collaboration of Castelfranco Veneto, accompanied by their priests and leaders.

I wish everyone a happy Sunday!

02.08.26