Good morning and thank you for this wonderful reception! They say when they clap at the beginning it does not matter much, if you are still awake at the end and you still want to applaud…thank you very much!

Brothers and sisters,

I welcome you, representatives of the media from around the world. Thank you for the work you have done and continue to do in these days, which is truly a time of grace for the Church.

In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus proclaimed: “Blessed are the peacemakers” (Mt 5:9). This is a Beatitude that challenges all of us, but it is particularly relevant to you, calling each one of you to strive for a different kind of communication, one that does not seek consensus at all costs, does not use aggressive words, does not follow the culture of competition and never separates the search for truth from the love with which we must humbly seek it.  Peace begins with each one of us: in the way we look at others, listen to others and speak about others. In this sense, the way we communicate is of fundamental importance: we must say “no” to the war of words and images, we must reject the paradigm of war.

Let me, therefore, reiterate today the Church’s solidarity with journalists who are imprisoned for seeking to report the truth, and with these words I also ask for the release of these imprisoned journalists. The Church recognizes in these witnesses – I am thinking of those who report on war even at the cost of their lives – the courage of those who defend dignity, justice and the right of people to be informed, because only informed individuals can make free choices. The suffering of these imprisoned journalists challenges the conscience of nations and the international community, calling on all of us to safeguard the precious gift of free speech and of the press.

Thank you, dear friends, for your service to the truth. You have been in Rome these past few weeks to report on the Church, its diversity and, at the same time, its unity. You were present during the liturgies of Holy Week and then reported on the sorrow felt over the death of Pope Francis, which nevertheless took place in the light of Easter. That same Easter faith drew us into the spirit of the Conclave, during which you worked long and tiring days. Yet, even on this occasion, you managed to recount the beauty of Christ’s love that unites and makes us one people, guided by the Good Shepherd.

We are living in times that are both difficult to navigate and to recount. They present a challenge for all of us but it is one that we should not run away from. On the contrary, they demand that each one of us, in our different roles and services, never give in to mediocrity. The Church must face the challenges posed by the times. In the same way, communication and journalism do not exist outside of time and history. Saint Augustine reminds of this when he said, “Let us live well and the times will be good. We are the times” (Discourse 80.8).

Thank you, therefore, for what you have done to move beyond stereotypes and clichés through which we often interpret Christian life and the life of the Church itself. Thank you because you have captured the essence of who we are and conveyed it to the whole world through every form of media possible.

Today, one of the most important challenges is to promote communication that can bring us out of the “Tower of Babel” in which we sometimes find ourselves, out of the confusion of loveless languages that are often ideological or partisan. Therefore, your service, with the words you use and the style you adopt, is crucial. As you know, communication is not only the transmission of information, but it is also the creation of a culture, of human and digital environments that become spaces for dialogue and discussion. In looking at how technology is developing, this mission becomes ever more necessary. I am thinking in particular of artificial intelligence, with its immense potential, which nevertheless requires responsibility and discernment in order to ensure that it can be used for the good of all, so that it can benefit all of humanity. This responsibility concerns everyone in proportion to his or her age and role in society.

Dear friends, we will get to know each other better over time. We have experienced – we can say together – truly special days. We have shared them through every form of media: TV, radio, internet, and social media. I sincerely hope that each of us can say that these days unveiled a little bit of the mystery of our humanity and left us with a desire for love and peace. For this reason, I repeat to you today the invitation made by Pope Francis in his message for this year’s World Day of Social Communications: let us disarm communication of all prejudice and resentment, fanaticism and even hatred; let us free it from aggression. We do not need loud, forceful communication, but rather communication that is capable of listening and of gathering the voices of the weak who have no voice. Let us disarm words and we will help to disarm the world. Disarmed and disarming communication allows us to share a different view of the world and to act in a manner consistent with our human dignity.

You are at the forefront of reporting on conflicts and aspirations for peace, on situations of injustice and poverty, and on the silent work of so many people striving to create a better world. For this reason, I ask you to choose consciously and courageously the path of communication in favor of peace.

Thank you all and may God bless you!

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Peace be with you.

Your Beatitudes, Your Eminence, Your Excellencies,
Dear priests, consecrated men and women,
Dear brothers and sisters,

Christ is risen. He is truly risen! I greet you in these words that Eastern Christians in many lands never tire of repeating during the Easter season, as they profess the very heart of our faith and hope. It is very moving for me to see you here during the Jubilee of Hope, a hope unshakably grounded in the resurrection of Jesus Christ. Welcome to Rome! I am happy to be with you and to devote one of the first audiences of my pontificate to the Eastern faithful.

You are precious in God’s eyes. Looking at you, I think of the diversity of your origins, your glorious history and the bitter sufferings that many of your communities have endured or continue to endure. I would like to reaffirm the conviction of Pope Francis that the Eastern Churches are to be “cherished and esteemed for the unique spiritual and sapiential traditions that they preserve, and for all that they have to say to us about the Christian life, synodality, and the liturgy. We think of early Fathers, the Councils, and monasticism… inestimable treasures for the Church (Address to Participants in the Meeting of Aid Agencies for the Oriental Churches [ROACO], 27 June 2024).

I would also like to mention Pope Leo XIII, the first Pope to devote a specific document to the dignity of your Churches, inspired above all by the fact that, in his words, “the work of human redemption began in the East” (cf. Apostolic Letter Orientalium Dignitas, 30 November 1894). Truly, you have “a unique and privileged role as the original setting where the Church was born” (SAINT JOHN PAUL II, Orientale Lumen, 5). It is significant that several of your liturgies – which you are now solemnly celebrating in Rome in accordance with your various traditions – continue to use the language of the Lord Jesus. Indeed, Pope Leo XIII made a heartfelt appeal that the “legitimate variety of Eastern liturgy and discipline... may redound to the great honor and benefit of the Church” (Orientalium Dignitas). His desire remains ever timely. In our own day too, many of our Eastern brothers and sisters, including some of you, have been forced to flee their homelands because of war and persecution, instability and poverty, and risk losing not only their native lands, but also, when they reach the West, their religious identity. As a result, with the passing of generations, the priceless heritage of the Eastern Churches is being lost.

Over a century ago, Leo XIII pointed out that “preserving the Eastern rites is more important than is generally realized”. He went so far as to decree that “any Latin-Rite missionary, whether a member of the secular or regular clergy, who by advice or support draws any Eastern-Rite Catholic to the Latin Rite” ought to be “dismissed and removed from his office” (ibid). We willingly reiterate this appeal to preserve and promote the Christian East, especially in the diaspora. In addition to establishing Eastern circumscriptions wherever possible and opportune, there is a need to promote greater awareness among Latin Christians. In this regard, I ask the Dicastery for the Eastern Churches – which I thank for its work – to help me to define principles, norms, and guidelines whereby Latin Bishops can concretely support Eastern Catholics in the diaspora in their efforts to preserve their living traditions and thus, by their distinctive witness, to enrich the communities in which they live.

The Church needs you. The contribution that the Christian East can offer us today is immense! We have great need to recover the sense of mystery that remains alive in your liturgies, liturgies that engage the human person in his or her entirety, that sing of the beauty of salvation and evoke a sense of wonder at how God’s majesty embraces our human frailty! It is likewise important to rediscover, especially in the Christian West, a sense of the primacy of God, the importance of mystagogy and the values so typical of Eastern spirituality: constant intercession, penance, fasting, and weeping for one’s own sins and for those of all humanity (penthos)! It is vital, then, that you preserve your traditions without attenuating them, for the sake perhaps of practicality or convenience, lest they be corrupted by the mentality of consumerism and utilitarianism.

Your traditions of spirituality, ancient yet ever new, are medicinal. In them, the drama of human misery is combined with wonder at God’s mercy, so that our sinfulness does not lead to despair, but opens us to accepting the gracious gift of becoming creatures who are healed, divinized and raised to the heights of heaven. For this, we ought to give endless praise and thanks to the Lord. Together, we can pray with Saint Ephrem the Syrian and say to the Lord Jesus: “Glory to you, who laid your cross as a bridge over death… Glory to you who clothed yourself in the body of mortal man, and made it the source of life for all mortals” (Homily on our Lord, 9). We must ask, then, for the grace to see the certainty of Easter in every trial of life and not to lose heart, remembering, as another great Eastern Father wrote, that “the greatest sin is not to believe in the power of the Resurrection” (SAINT ISAAC OF NINEVEH, Sermones ascetici, I, 5).

Who, better than you, can sing a song of hope even amid the abyss of violence? Who, better than you, who have experienced the horrors of war so closely that Pope Francis referred to you as “martyr Churches” (Address to ROACO, ibid.)? From the Holy Land to Ukraine, from Lebanon to Syria, from the Middle East to Tigray and the Caucasus, how much violence do we see! Rising up from this horror, from the slaughter of so many young people, which ought to provoke outrage because lives are being sacrificed in the name of military conquest, there resounds an appeal: the appeal not so much of the Pope, but of Christ himself, who repeats: “Peace be with you!” (Jn 20:19, 21, 26). And he adds: “Peace I leave you; my peace I give to you. I do not give it to you as the world gives it” (Jn 14:27). Christ’s peace is not the sepulchral silence that reigns after conflict; it is not the fruit of oppression, but rather a gift that is meant for all, a gift that brings new life. Let us pray for this peace, which is reconciliation, forgiveness, and the courage to turn the page and start anew.

For my part, I will make every effort so that this peace may prevail. The Holy See is always ready to help bring enemies together, face to face, to talk to one another, so that peoples everywhere may once more find hope and recover the dignity they deserve, the dignity of peace. The peoples of our world desire peace, and to their leaders I appeal with all my heart: Let us meet, let us talk, let us negotiate! War is never inevitable. Weapons can and must be silenced, for they do not resolve problems but only increase them. Those who make history are the peacemakers, not those who sow seeds of suffering. Our neighbors are not first our enemies, but our fellow human beings; not criminals to be hated, but other men and women with whom we can speak. Let us reject the Manichean notions so typical of that mindset of violence that divides the world into those who are good and those who are evil.

The Church will never tire of repeating: let weapons be silenced. I would like to thank God for all those who, in silence, prayer and self-sacrifice, are sowing seeds of peace. I thank God for those Christians – Eastern and Latin alike – who, above all in the Middle East, persevere and remain in their homelands, resisting the temptation to abandon them. Christians must be given the opportunity, and not just in words, to remain in their native lands with all the rights needed for a secure existence. Please, let us strive for this!

Thank you, dear brothers and sisters of the East, the lands where Jesus, the Sun of Justice, dawned, for being “lights in our world” (cf. Mt 5:14). Continue to be outstanding for your faith, hope, and charity, and nothing else. May your Churches be exemplary, and may your Pastors promote communion with integrity, especially in the Synods of Bishops, that they may be places of fraternity and authentic co-responsibility. Ensure transparency in the administration of goods and be signs of humble and complete dedication to the holy people of God, without regard for honors, worldly power or appearance. Saint Symeon the New Theologian used an eloquent image in this regard: “Just as one who throws dust on the flame of a burning furnace extinguishes it, so the cares of this life and every kind of attachment to petty and worthless things destroy the warmth of the heart that was initially kindled” (Practical and Theological Chapters, 63). Today more than ever, the splendor of the Christian East demands freedom from all worldly attachments and from every tendency contrary to communion, in order to remain faithful in obedience and in evangelical witness.

I thank you for this, and in cordially giving you my blessing, I ask you to pray for the Church and to raise your powerful prayers of intercession for my ministry. Thank you!

• Source: Aleteia: Pope Leo: "Brothers and sisters, this is the hour for love!"
• Original Text: Homilies 2025 | LEO XIV

Greeting in English

Appeal of the Holy Father

Dear brothers and sisters,

We will continue to meditate on some parables of the Gospel, which are an opportunity to change perspective and open ourselves up to hope. The lack of hope, at times, is due to the fact that we fixate on a certain rigid and closed way of seeing things, and the parables help us to look at them from another point of view.

Today I would like to talk to you about an expert, knowledgeable person, a doctor of the Law, who however needs to change his perspective, because he is concentrated on himself and does not notice others (cf. Lk 10:25-37). Indeed, he questions Jesus on the way in which eternal life is “inherited”, using an expression that intends it as an unequivocal right. But behind this question perhaps it is precisely the need for attention that is concealed: the only word he asks Jesus to explain is the term “neighbour”, which literally means he who is near.

Jesus therefore tells a parable that is a path for transforming that question, to pass from who loves me? to who has loved? The first is an immature question, the second is the question of an adult who has understood the meaning of his life. The first question is the one we ask when we sit in the corner and wait, the second is the one that drives us to set out on the path.

The parable that Jesus tells has, in fact, a road as its setting, and it is a difficult and impervious road, like life. It is the road travelled by a man going down from Jerusalem, the city on the mountain, to Jericho, the city below sea level. It is an image that already foreshadows what might happen: it happens that the man is attacked, beaten, robbed and left half dead. It is the experience that happens when situations, people, sometimes even those we have trusted, take everything from us and leave us in the middle of the road.

However, life is made up of encounters, and in these encounters, we emerge for what we are. We find ourselves in front of others, faced with their fragility and weakness, and we can decide what to do: to take care of them or pretend nothing is wrong. A priest and a Levite go down that same road. They are people who serve in the Temple of Jerusalem, who live in the sacred space. And yet, the practice of worship does not automatically lead to being compassionate. Indeed, before being a religious matter, compassion is a question of humanity! Before being believers, we are called to be human.

We can imagine that, after staying a long time in Jerusalem, that priest and that Levite are in a hurry to return home. It is indeed haste, so present in our lives, that very often prevents us from feeling compassion. Those who think that their own journey must take precedence are not willing to stop for another.

But here comes someone who is actually able to stop: he is a Samaritan, hence a person belonging to a despised people (cf. 2 Kings 17). In his case, the text does not specify the direction, but only says that he was travelling. Religiosity does not enter into this. This Samaritan simply stops because he is a man faced with another man in need of help.

Compassion is expressed through practical gestures. The Evangelist Luke ponders the actions of the Samaritan, whom we call “good”, but in the text he is simply a person: a Samaritan approaches, because if you want to help someone, you cannot think of keeping your distance, you have to get involved, get dirty, perhaps be contaminated; he binds the wounds after cleaning them with oil and wine; he loads him onto his horse, taking on the burden, because one who truly helps if one is willing to feel the weight of the other’s pain; he takes him to an inn where he spends money, “two silver coins”, more or less two days of work; and he undertakes to return and eventually pay more, because the other is not a package to deliver, but someone to care for.

Dear brothers and sisters, when will we too be capable of interrupting our journey and having compassion? When we understand that the wounded man in the street represents each one of us. And then the memory of all the times that Jesus stopped to take care of us will make us more capable of compassion.

Let us pray, then, that we can grow in humanity, so that our relationships may be truer and richer in compassion. Let us ask the Heart of Jesus for the grace increasingly to have the same feelings as him.

APPEAL:

I strongly reiterate my appeal to stop the war and to support every initiative of dialogue and peace. I ask everyone to join in prayer for peace in Ukraine and wherever there is suffering because of war.

In the Gaza Strip, the cry of mothers, of fathers who clutch the lifeless bodies of children and who are continually forced to move in search of a little food and safer shelter from bombing, rises ever more intensely to the sky.

I renew my appeal to the leaders: cease fire, release all hostages, fully respect humanitarian law. Mary Queen of Peace, pray for us.

SPECIAL GREETINGS:

SUMMARY OF THE HOLY FATHER'S WORDS:

Dear brothers and sisters,

I would like to look at one of Jesus’ parables again. Also in this case, it is a story that fosters our hope. Indeed, at times we have the impression that we cannot find meaning for our lives: we feel useless, inadequate, just like the labourers who wait in the marketplace, waiting for someone to hire them to work. But sometimes time passes, life goes by, and we do not feel acknowledged or appreciated. Perhaps we did not arrive in time, others appeared before us, or problems held us up elsewhere.

The metaphor of the marketplace is very appropriate for our times too, because the market is the place of business, where unfortunately even affection and dignity are bought and sold, in the attempt to earn something. And when we do not feel appreciated, acknowledged, we risk selling ourselves to the first bidder. Instead, the Lord reminds us that our life is worthy, and his wish is to help us discover this.

Also in the parable we are commenting on today, there are labourers awaiting someone who will hire them for the day. We are at Chapter 20 of the Gospel of Matthew, and here too we find a character whose behaviour is unusual, who surprises and challenges us. He is the owner of a vineyard, who comes out in person in search of his labourers. Evidently, he wants to establish a personal relationship with them.

As I was saying, it is a parable that gives hope, because it tells us that this landowner goes out several times to go and look for those who are waiting to give meaning to their lives. The landowner goes out immediately at dawn and then, every three hours, he returns in search of workers to send to his vineyard. Following this schedule, after going out at three o’clock in the afternoon, there would be no reason to go out again, because the working day ended at six.

This tireless master, who wants at all costs to give value to the life of every one of us, instead goes out at five. The labourers who had remained in the marketplace had probably given up all hope. That day had come to nothing. Nevertheless, someone still believed in them. What point is there to take on labourers only for the last hour of the working day? And yet, even when it seems we are able to do little in life, it is always worthwhile. There is always the possibility to find meaning, because God loves our life.

And the originality of this landowner is also seen at the end of the day, at pay time. The master had agreed to pay the first workers, who go into the vineyard at dawn, one denarius, which was a typical day’s wage. He tells the others he will give them what is fair. And it is right here that the parable provokes us: what is fair? For the owner of the vineyard, that is, for God, it is just that each person has what he needs to live. He called the labourers personally, he knows their dignity, and on the basis of this, he wants to pay them, and he gives all of them one denarius.

The story says that the labourers from the first hour are disappointed: they cannot see the beauty of the gesture of the landowner, who was not unjust, but simply generous; who looked not only at merit, but also at need. God wants to give his Kingdom, that is, full, eternal and happy life, to everyone. And this is what Jesus does with us: he does not establish rankings, he gives all of himself to those who open their hearts to him.

In the light of this parable, today’s Christian might be tempted to think, “Why start work immediately? If the pay is the same, why work more?”. Saint Augustine responds to these doubts, saying: “Why dost thou put off him that calleth thee, certain as thou art of the reward, but uncertain of the day? Take heed then lest peradventure what he is to give thee by promise, thou take from thyself by delay”. 

I would like to say, especially to the young, do not wait, but respond enthusiastically to the Lord who calls us to work in his vineyard. Do not delay, roll up your sleeves, because the Lord is generous and you will not be disappointed! Working in his vineyard, you will find an answer to that profound question you carry within you: what is the meaning of my life?

Dear brothers and sisters, let us not be discouraged! Even in the dark moments of life, when time passes without giving us the answers we seek, let us ask the Lord who will come out again and find us where we are waiting for him. He is generous, and he will come soon!

SPECIAL GREETINGS:

SUMMARY OF THE HOLY FATHER'S WORDS:

Dear brothers and sisters,

“The day has dawned upon us when..., glorified by his ascension into heaven following his resurrection, the Lord Jesus Christ sent the Holy Spirit” (Saint Augustine, Serm. 271, 1). Today, too, what took place in the Upper Room takes place anew in our midst. Like a mighty wind that overtakes us, like a crash that startles us, like a fire that illuminates us, the gift of the Holy Spirit descends upon us (cf. Acts 2:1-11).

As we heard in the first reading, the Spirit accomplished something extraordinary in the lives of the Apostles. Following Jesus’ death, they had retreated behind closed doors, in fear and sadness. Now they receive a new way of seeing things, an interior understanding that helps them to interpret the events that occurred and to experience intimately the presence of the Risen Lord. The Holy Spirit overcomes their fear, shatters their inner chains, heals their wounds, anoints them with strength and grants them the courage to go out to all and to proclaim God’s mighty works.

The reading from the Acts of the Apostles tells us that in Jerusalem at that time there was a multitude of people from various backgrounds, yet “each one heard them speaking in his own native tongue” (v. 6). In a word, at Pentecost, the doors of the Upper Room were opened because the Spirit opens borders. As Benedict XVI explained: “The Holy Spirit bestows understanding. The Spirit overcomes the ‘breach’ that began in Babel, the confusion of mind and heart that sets us one against the other. The Spirit opens borders... The Church must always become anew what she already is. She must open the borders between peoples and break down the barriers between class and race. In her, there cannot be those who are neglected or disdained. In the Church there are only free men and women, brothers and sisters of Jesus Christ” (Homily for Pentecost, 15 May 2005).

Here we have an eloquent image of Pentecost, one that I would like to pause for a moment and reflect upon with you.

The Spirit opens borders, first of all, in our hearts. He is the Gift that opens our lives to love. His presence breaks down our hardness of heart, our narrowness of mind, our selfishness, the fears that enchain us and the narcissism that makes us think only of ourselves. The Holy Spirit comes to challenge us, to make us confront the possibility that our lives are shrivelling up, trapped in the vortex of individualism. Sadly, oddly enough, in a world of burgeoning “social” media, we risk being ever more alone. Constantly connected, yet incapable of “networking”. Always immersed in a crowd, yet confused and solitary travellers.

The Spirit of God allows us to find a new way of approaching and experiencing life. He puts us in touch with our inmost self, beneath all the masks we wear. He leads us to an encounter with the Lord by teaching us to experience the joy that is his gift. He convinces us, as we just heard in Jesus’ words, that only by abiding in love, will we receive the strength to remain faithful to his word and to let it transform us. The Spirit opens our interior borders, so that our lives can become places of welcome and refreshment.

The Spirit also opens borders in our relationship with others. Jesus tells us that this Gift is the love between him and the Father that comes to dwell within us. We then become capable of opening our hearts to our brothers and sisters, overcoming our rigidity, moving beyond our fear of those who are different, and mastering the passions that stir within. The Spirit also transforms those deeper, hidden dangers that disturb our relationships, like suspicion, prejudice or the desire to manipulate others. I think too, with great pain, of those cases where relationships are marked by an unhealthy desire for domination, an attitude that often leads to violence, as is shown, tragically, by numerous recent cases of femicide.

The Holy Spirit, on the other hand, brings to maturity within us the fruits that enable us to cultivate good and healthy relationships: “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control” (Gal 5:22). In this way, the Spirit broadens the borders of our relationships and opens us to the joy of fraternity. This is also a critical yardstick for the Church. For we are truly the Church of the Risen Lord and disciples of Pentecost if there are no borders or divisions among us; if we are able to dialogue and accept one another in the Church, and to reconcile our diversities; and if, as Church, we become a welcoming and hospitable place for all.

Finally, the Spirit also opens borders between peoples. At Pentecost, the Apostles spoke the languages of those they met, and the confusion of Babel was finally resolved by the harmony brought about by the Spirit. Whenever God’s “breath” unites our hearts and makes us view others as our brothers and sisters, differences no longer become an occasion for division and conflict but rather a shared patrimony from which we can all draw, and which sets us all on journey together, in fraternity.

The Spirit breaks down barriers and tears down the walls of indifference and hatred because he “teaches us all things” and “reminds us of Jesus’ words” (cf. Jn 14:26). He teaches us, reminds us, and writes in our hearts before all else the commandment of love that the Lord has made the center and summit of everything. Where there is love, there is no room for prejudice, for “security” zones separating us from our neighbors, for the exclusionary mindset that, tragically, we now see emerging also in political nationalisms.

It was on the feast of Pentecost that Pope Francis observed: “In our world today, there is so much discord, such great division. We are all ‘connected’, yet find ourselves disconnected from one another, anesthetized by indifference and overwhelmed by solitude” (Homily, 28 May 2023). The wars plaguing our world are a tragic sign of this. Let us invoke the Spirit of love and peace, that he may open borders, break down walls, dispel hatred and help us to live as children of our one Father who is in heaven.

Brothers and sisters, Pentecost renews the Church and the world! May the strong wind of the Spirit come upon us and within us, open the borders of our hearts, grant us the grace of encounter with God, enlarge the horizons of our love and sustain our efforts to build a world in which peace reigns.

May Mary Most Holy, Woman of Pentecost, Virgin visited by the Spirit, Mother full of grace, accompany us and intercede for us.

Dear sisters and brothers,

Today we have the joy and grace of celebrating the Jubilee of the Holy See on the liturgical feast day of Mary, Mother of the Church. This happy coincidence is a source of light and inner inspiration in the Holy Spirit, who yesterday, on Pentecost, poured himself out abundantly upon the people of God. It is in this spiritual setting that we are experiencing a special day; first with the meditation we have heard and now, at the table of the Word and the Eucharist.

The Word of God in this celebration helps us to understand the mystery of the Church and, within it, of the Holy See, in the light of the two biblical images inspired by the Spirit in the Acts of the Apostles (1:12-14) and in the Gospel of John (19:25-34).

Let us begin with the fundamental account, which is the story of Jesus’ death. John, the only one of the Twelve present at Calvary, saw and testified that beneath the cross stood Jesus’ mother together with the other women (cf. Jn 19:25). And he heard with his own ears the last words of the Master, among which were these: “Woman, here is your son!” and then, turning to him, “Here is your mother!” (Jn 19:26-27).

Mary’s motherhood through the mystery of the Cross took an unimaginable leap: the mother of Jesus became the new Eve, the source of new and eternal life for every person who comes into the world, because her Son associated her with his redemptive death. The theme of fruitfulness is clearly present in this liturgy. The opening prayer immediately highlighted this by asking the Father that the Church, sustained by the love of Christ, “may be more fruitful day by day.” (Collect)

The fruitfulness of the Church is the same fruitfulness as Mary’s; it is realized in the lives of her members to the extent that they relive, “in miniature,” what the Mother lived, namely, they love according to the love of Jesus. All the fruitfulness of the Church and of the Holy See depends on the Cross of Christ. Otherwise, it is only appearance, if not worse. A great contemporary theologian wrote: “If the Church is the tree that grew from the tiny mustard seed of the cross, this tree is destined to produce mustard seeds in turn, and therefore fruits that repeat the shape of the cross, because it is precisely to the cross that they owe their existence” (H.U. von Balthasar, Cordula ovverosia il caso serio, Brescia 1969, 45-46).

In the Collect, we also prayed that the Church may exult “in the holiness of her children.” In fact, the fruitfulness of Mary and of the Church are inextricably linked to their holiness, which is their conformity to Christ. The Holy See is holy as the Church is holy, in her original core, in the very fabric of her being. The Apostolic See thus preserves the holiness of its roots while being preserved by them. But it is no less true that it also lives in the holiness of each of its members. Therefore, the best way to serve the Holy See is to strive for holiness, each according to his or her particular state of life and the work entrusted to him or her.

For example, a priest who personally carries a heavy cross because of his ministry, yet every day goes to the office and tries to do his job to the best of his ability with love and faith, this priest participates and contributes to the fruitfulness of the Church. Similarly, a father or mother of a family who lives in a difficult situation at home, with a child who is cause for concern or a sick parent, and continues his or her work with commitment, that man or woman are fruitful with the fruitfulness of Mary and of the Church.

Let us now turn to the second image, the one described by Saint Luke at the beginning of the Acts of the Apostles, which depicts the mother of Jesus together with the Apostles and disciples in the Upper Room (1:12-14). It presents Mary’s motherhood towards the nascent Church, an “archetypal” motherhood that remains relevant in every time and place. It is always and above all the fruit of the Paschal Mystery, of the gift of the Crucified and Risen Lord.

The Holy Spirit, who descends with power upon the first community, is the same Spirit that Jesus bestowed with his last breath (cf. Jn 19:30). This biblical image is inseparable from the first. The fruitfulness of the Church is always linked to the grace that flowed from the pierced heart of Jesus, together with blood and water, symbolizing the sacraments (cf. Jn 19:34).

In the Upper Room, thanks to the maternal mission she received at the foot of the cross, Mary is at the service of the nascent community: she is the living memory of Jesus and, as such, she is the center of attention that harmonizes differences and ensures the unity of the disciples’ prayer.

In this text too, the apostles are listed by name and, as always, Peter is the first (cf. v. 13). But he himself, in truth, is the first to be supported by Mary in his ministry. In the same way, Mother Church supports the ministry of Peter's successors with the Marian charism. The Holy See experiences in a very special way the coexistence of the two poles; the Marian and the Petrine. It is precisely the Marian pole, with its motherhood, gift of Christ and of the Spirit, that ensures the fruitfulness and holiness of the Petrine pole.

Dear friends, let us praise God for his Word, the lamp that guides our steps, even in our daily life at the service of the Holy See. Enlightened by his Word, let us renew our prayer: Grant, O Father, that your Church, sustained by the love of Christ, may be ever more fruitful in the Spirit, exult in the holiness of her children, and draw to her embrace all the whole human family (cf. Collect in Italian Missal). Amen.

Dear brothers and sisters,

With this catechesis I would like to bring our attention to another essential aspect of the life of Jesus, namely his healings. For this reason, I invite you to bring before the Heart of Christ your most painful and fragile parts, those places in your life where you feel stuck and blocked. Let us trustfully ask the Lord to listen to our cry, and to heal us!

The character who accompanies us in this reflection will help us to understand that we must never give up hope, even when we feel lost. He is Bartimaeus, a blind man and a beggar, whom Jesus meets in Jericho (cf. Mk 10:46-52). The place is significant: Jesus is going to Jerusalem, but he begins his journey, so to speak, in the “underworld” of Jericho, a city situated below sea level. Indeed, Jesus, with his death, went to take back that Adam who fell to the bottom and who represents each one of us.

Bartimaeus means “son of Timaeus”: the man is described through a relationship, and yet he is dramatically alone. This name, though, could also mean “son of honour” or “of admiration”, exactly the opposite of the situation in which he finds himself. [1] And since the name is so important in Jewish culture, it means that Bartimaeus fails to live up to what he is called to be.

Then, unlike the great movement of people who walk behind Jesus, Bartimaeus is still. The Evangelist says that he is sitting by the roadside, and so he needs someone to lift him up onto his feet and help him resume his journey.

What can we do when we find ourselves in a situation that seems to have no way out? Bartimaeus teaches us to appeal to the resources we have within us and which form a part of us. He is a beggar, he knows how to ask, indeed, he can shout! If you truly want something, you do everything in order to be able to reach it, even when others reproach you, humiliate you and tell you to let it be. If you really desire it, you keep on shouting!

The cry of Bartimaeus, in the Gospel of Mark – “Jesus, son of David, have pity on me!” (v. 47) – has become a very well-known prayer in the Eastern tradition, which we too can use: “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have pity on me, a sinner”.

Bartimaeus is blind, but paradoxically he sees better than the others, and he recognizes who Jesus is! Before his cry, Jesus stops and has him called (cf. 49), because there is no cry that God does not hear, even when we are not aware we are addressing him (cf. Ex 2:23). It seems strange that, in front of a blind man, Jesus does not go immediately to him; but, if we think about it, it is the way to reactivate Bartimaeus’ life: He spurs him to get up again, He trusts in his ability to walk. That man can get up on his feet again, he can rise from the throes of death. But in order to do this, he must perform a very meaningful gesture: he must throw away his cloak (cf. v. 50)!

For a beggar, the cloak is everything: it is his safety, it is his house, it is the defence that protects him. Even the law protected the beggar’s cloak, and imposed that it be returned in the evening if taken as a pledge (cf. Ex 22:25). And yet, many times, it is precisely our apparent securities that stand in our way – what we have put on to defend ourselves and which instead prevent us from walking. To go to Jesus and let himself be healed, Bartimaeus must show himself to Him in all his vulnerability. This is the fundamental step in any journey of healing.

Even the question that Jesus asks him seems strange: “What do you want me to do for you?” (v.51). But, in reality, it is not given that we want to be healed from our ailments; at times we prefer to stay still so as not to take responsibility. Bartimaeus’ reply is profound: he uses the verb anablepein, which can mean “to see again”, but which we can also translate as “to look up”. Indeed, Bartimaeus does not want only to see again; he wants to regain his dignity! To look up, we must raise our heads. At times people are stuck because life has humiliated them, and they just want to find their worth again.

What saves Bartimaeus, and each one of us, is faith. Jesus heals us so that we can become free. He does not invite Bartimaeus to follow him, but tells him to go, to set out on his way (cf. v.52). However, Mark concludes the story by saying that Bartimaeus began to follow Jesus: he freely chose to follow him, He who is the Way!

Dear brothers and sisters, let us trustfully bring our ailments before Jesus, and also those of our loved ones; let us bring the pain of those who feel lost and without a way out. Let us cry out for them too, and we will be certain that the Lord will hear us and stop.

APPEAL

I would like to assure my prayers for the victims of the tragedy that took place in the school in Graz. I am close to the families, teachers, and schoolmates. May the Lord receive these children of his in his peace.

GREETING:

I extend a warm welcome to the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors taking part in today’s Audience, especially those coming from England, Scotland, Belgium, Cameroon, Zimbabwe, China, Indonesia, the Philippines, Singapore, Canada, United States of America. As we prepare to celebrate the Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity this coming Sunday, I invite you to make of your hearts a welcoming dwelling for the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. God bless you all!

SUMMARY OF THE HOLY FATHER'S WORDS:

I want to ask for a big round of applause for all of you who are here, and for all the priests and deacons of Rome!

Dear Priests and Deacons who provide your service in the diocese of Rome, dear seminarians, I greet you all with affection and friendship!

I thank His Eminence the Cardinal Vicar, for the words of greeting and for his presentation, telling something of your presence in this city.

I wished to meet you to get to know you personally, and to begin walking with you. I thank you for your life given in the service of the Kingdom, for your daily labours, for your great generosity in the exercise of your ministry, for everything you live in silence and that is at times accompanied by suffering or misunderstanding. You carry out different services, but you are all precious in the eyes of God and in the fulfilment of his plan.

The diocese of Rome presides in charity and in communion, and can fulfil this mission thanks to each one of you, in the bond of grace with the Bishop and in the fruitful co-responsibility of all God’s people. Ours is a truly particular diocese, because many priests come from various parts of the world, especially in order to study; and this implies that pastoral care too – I am thinking above all of the parishes – is marked by this universality and the mutual acceptance it entails.

Starting precisely from this universal outlook that Rome offers, I would like to share cordially with you a few reflections.

The first note, that is particularly close to my heart, is that of unity and communion. In the so-called “priestly” prayer, as we know, Jesus asked the Father that his people may be one (cf. Jn 20-23). The Lord knows well that only by being joined to him and united among ourselves can we bear fruilt and give credible witness to the world. Presbyteral communion here in Rome is favoured by the fact that, by ancient tradition, it is it is customary to live together, in rectories as well as in colleges or other residences. The presbyter is called to be the man of communion, because he is the first to live it, and continually nurtures it. We know that this communion today is hindered by a cultural climate that favours isolation or self-absorption. None of us is exempt from these pitfalls that threaten the solidity of our spiritual life and the strength of our ministry.

But we must be vigilant because, in addition to the cultural context, communion and fraternity among us also encounter some obstacles that are, so to speak, “internal”, which relate to the ecclesial life of the diocese, interpersonal relationships, and also what resides in the heart, especially that feeling of weariness that arises because we have experienced particular hardships, because we do not feel we are understood and heard, or for other reasons. I would like to help you, to walk with you, so that each person may regain serenity in his own ministry; but it is precisely for this reason that I ask you for zeal in priestly fraternity, which has its roots in a solid spiritual life, in the encounter with the Lord and in listening to his Word. Nourished by this lymph, we are able to have relationships of friendship, outdoing one another in respect (cf. Rm 12:10); we feel the need for others in order to grow and to foster the same ecclesial drive.

Communion should also be translated into commitment in this diocese: with diverse charisms, with different paths of formation and even with different services, but the effort to sustain it must be one. I ask all of you to pay attention to the pastoral journey of this Chruch which is local but, because of who leads it, is also universal. Walking together is always a guarantee of fidelity to the Gospel; together and in harmony, striving to enrich the Church with one’s own charism but having at heart the single body of which Christ is the Head.

The second note I want to give you is that of exemplarity. On the occasion of the priestly ordinations on 31 May last, in the homily I recalled the importance of the transparency of life, on the basis of the words of Saint Paul who said to the elders of Ephesus: “You yourselves know how I lived among you” (Acts 20:18). I ask you, with the heart of a father and of a pastor, let us all undertake to be credible and exemplary priests! We are aware of the limits of our nature and the Lord knows us in depth; but we have received an extraordinary grace; we have been entrusted with a precious treasure of which we are the ministers, the servants. And fidelity is required of the servant. None of us is exempt from the suggestions of the world, and the city, with its thousands of offerings, could even draw us away from the desire for a holy life, inducing a levelling down in which the profound values of being a priest are lost. Let yourselves be drawn once again by the call of the Master, to feel and live the love of the first hour, that which drove you to make important choices and courageous sacrifices. If together we try to be exemplary in a humble life, then we will be able to express the renewing force of the Gospel for every man and for every woman.

A final note I wish to give you you is that of looking at the challenges of our time from a prophetic perspective. We are concerned and saddened by everything that happens every day in the world: we are hurt by the violence that generates death, we are challenged by inequalities, poverty, many forms of social marginalization, the widespread suffering that assumes the features of an unease that no longer spares anyone. And these are not distant realities, far from us, but rather they affect even our city of Rome, marked by multiple forms of poverty and grave emergencies such as the issue of housing. A city in which, as Pope Francis remarked, the “great beauty” and charm of art must also be matched by “simple decorum and the normal functioning of places and situations in ordinary, everyday life. Because a city that is more liveable for its citizens is also more welcoming to everyone” (Homily for Vespers with Te Deum, 31 December 2023).

The Lord wanted us in this time filled with challenges that, at times, seem to exceed our strength. We are called to embrace these challenges, to interpret them evangelically, to experience them as opportunities to bear witness. Let us not flee from them! Pastoral commitment, like that of study, become for us a school to learn how to build the Kingdom of God in today's complex and challenging history. In recent times we have had the example of holy priests who have been able to combine a passion for history with the proclamation of the Gospel, such as Don Primo Mazzolari and Don Lorenzo Milani, prophets of peace and justice. And here in Rome we have had Don Luigi Di Liegro who, faced with so much poverty, devoted his life to seeking ways of justice and human advancement. Let us draw on the strength of these examples to continue sowing seeds of holiness in our city.

Dear friends, I assure you of my closeness, my affection and my readiness to walk with you. Let us entrust our priestly life to the Lord, and let us ask him to be able to grow in unity, exemplarity and in prophetic commitment to serve our time. May we be accompanied by the heartfelt appeal of Saint Augustine, who said: “Love this Church, be ye in this holy Church, be ye this Church; love the Good Shepherd, the Spouse so fair, who deceiveth no one, who desireth no one to perish. Pray too for the scattered sheep; that they too may come, that they too may acknowledge Him, that they too may love Him; that there may be One Flock and One Shepherd” (Sermon 138, 10). Thank you.

1. “You, O Lord, are my hope” (Ps 71:5). These words well up from a heart burdened by grave hardship: “You have made me see many troubles and calamities” (v. 20), the Psalmist exclaims. At the same time, his heart remains open and confident; steadfast in faith, he acknowledges the support of God, whom he calls “a rock of refuge, a strong fortress” (v. 3). Hence, his abiding trust that hope in God never disappoints: “In you, Lord, I take refuge; I shall never be put to shame” (v. 1).

Amid life’s trials, our hope is inspired by the firm and reassuring certainty of God’s love, poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit. That hope does not disappoint (cf. Rom 5:5). Thus Saint Paul could write to Timothy: “To this end we toil and struggle, because we have our hope set on the living God” (1 Tim 4:10). The living God is in fact “the God of hope” (Rom 15:13), and Christ, by his death and resurrection, has himself become “our hope” (1 Tim 1:1). We must never forget that we were saved in this hope, and need to remain firmly rooted therein.

2. The poor can be witnesses to a strong and steadfast hope, precisely because they embody it in the midst of uncertainty, poverty, instability and marginalization. They cannot rely on the security of power and possessions; on the contrary, they are at their mercy and often victims of them. Their hope must necessarily be sought elsewhere. By recognizing that God is our first and only hope, we too pass from fleeting hopes to a lasting hope. Once we desire that God accompany us on the journey of life, material wealth becomes relativized, for we discover the real treasure that we need. The words that the Lord Jesus spoke to his disciples remain forceful and clear: “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal; but store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust consume and where thieves do not break in and steal” (Mt 6:19-20).

3. The gravest form of poverty is not to know God. As Pope Francis wrote in Evangelii Gaudium: “The worst discrimination which the poor suffer is the lack of spiritual care. The great majority of the poor have a special openness to the faith; they need God and we must not fail to offer them his friendship, his blessing, his word, the celebration of the sacraments and a journey of growth and maturity in the faith” (No. 2000). Here we see a basic and essential awareness of how we can find our treasure in God. As the Apostle John insists: “If anyone says, ‘I love God,’ but hates his brother, he is a liar; for whoever does not love his brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen” (1 Jn 4:20).

This is a rule of faith and the secret of hope: all this earth’s goods, material realities, worldly pleasures, economic prosperity, however important, cannot bring happiness to our hearts. Wealth often disappoints and can lead to tragic situations of poverty — above all the poverty born of the failure to recognize our need for God and of the attempt to live without him. A saying of Saint Augustine comes to mind: “Let all your hope be in God: feel your need for him, and let him fill that need. Without him, whatever you possess will only make you all the more empty” (Enarr. in Ps., 85:3).

4. The word of God tells us that Christian hope is certainty at every step of life’s journey, since it does not depend not on our human strength but upon the promise of God, who is always faithful. For this reason, from the beginning, Christians have identified hope with the symbol of the anchor, which provides stability and security. Christian hope is like an anchor that grounds our hearts in the promise of the Lord Jesus, who saved us by his death and resurrection and will come again among us. This hope continues to point us toward the “new heavens” and the “new earth” (2 Pet 3:13) as the true horizon of our existence, where every life will find its authentic meaning, for our real homeland is in heaven (cf. Phil 3:20).

The city of God, therefore, impels us to improve the cities of men and women. Our own cities must begin to resemble his. Hope, sustained by God’s love poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit (cf. Rom 5:5), turns human hearts into fertile soil where charity for the life of the world can blossom. The Church’s tradition has constantly insisted on the circular relationship between the three theological virtues of faith, hope and charity. Hope is born of faith, which nourishes and sustains it on the foundation of charity, the mother of all virtues. All of us need charity, here and now. Charity is not just a promise; it is a present reality to be embraced with joy and responsibility. Charity engages us and guides our decisions towards the common good. Conversely, those who lack charity not only lack faith and hope; they also rob their neighbors of hope.

5. The biblical summons to hope thus entails the duty to shoulder our responsibilities in history, without hesitation. Charity, in fact, “is the greatest social commandment” (Catechism of the Catholic Church, No. 1889). Poverty has structural causes that must be addressed and eliminated. In the meantime, each of us is called to offer new signs of hope that will bear witness to Christian charity, just as many saints have done over the centuries. Hospitals and schools, for instance, were institutions established to reach out to the most vulnerable and marginalized. These institutions should be a part of every country’s public policy, yet wars and inequalities often prevent this from happening. Today, signs of hope are increasingly found in care homes, communities for minors, centers for listening and acceptance, soup kitchens, homeless shelters and low-income schools. How many of these quiet signs of hope often go unnoticed and yet are so important for setting aside our indifference and inspiring others to become involved in various forms of volunteer work!

The poor are not a distraction for the Church, but our beloved brothers and sisters, for by their lives, their words and their wisdom, they put us in contact with the truth of the Gospel. The celebration of the World Day of the Poor is meant to remind our communities that the poor are at the heart of all our pastoral activity. This is true not only of the Church’s charitable work, but also of the message that she celebrates and proclaims. God took on their poverty in order to enrich us through their voices, their stories and their faces. Every form of poverty, without exception, calls us to experience the Gospel concretely and to offer effective signs of hope.

6. This, then, is the invitation extended to us by this Jubilee celebration. It is no coincidence that the World Day of the Poor is celebrated towards the end of this year of grace. Once the Holy Door is closed, we are to cherish and share with others the divine gifts granted us throughout this entire year of prayer, conversion and witness. The poor are not recipients of our pastoral care, but creative subjects who challenge us to find novel ways of living out the Gospel today. In the face of new forms of impoverishment, we can risk becoming hardened and resigned. Each day we encounter poor or impoverished people. We too may have less than before and are losing what once seemed secure: a home, sufficient food for each day, access to healthcare and a good education, information, religious freedom and freedom of expression.

 In this promotion of the common good, our social responsibility is grounded in God’s creative act, which gives everyone a share in the goods of the earth. Like those goods, the fruits of human labor should be equally accessible to all. Helping the poor is a matter of justice before a question of charity. As Saint Augustine observed: “You give bread to a hungry person; but it would be better if none were hungry, so that you would have no need to give it away. You clothe the naked, but would that all were clothed and that there be no need for supply this lack” (In I Ioan., 8:5).

It is my hope, then, that this Jubilee Year will encourage the development of policies aimed at combatting forms of poverty both old and new, as well as implementing new initiatives to support and assist the poorest of the poor. Labor, education, housing and health are the foundations of a security that will never be attained by the use of arms. I express my appreciation for those initiatives that already exist, and for the efforts demonstrated daily on the international level by great numbers of men and women of good will.

 Let us entrust ourselves to Mary Most Holy, Comforter of the Afflicted and, with her, let us raise a song of hope as we make our own the words of the Te Deum: “In you, O Lord, is our hope, and we shall never hope in vain.”

From the Vatican, 13 June 2025, Memorial of Saint Anthony of Padua, Patron Saint of the Poor

My dear friends,

It’s a pleasure for me to greet all of you gathered together at White Sox Park on this great celebration as a community of faith in the Archdiocese of Chicago. A special greeting to Cardinal Cupich, to the auxiliary bishops, to all my friends who are gathered today on this: the feast of the Most Holy Trinity.

And I begin with that because the Trinity is a model of God’s love for us. God: Father, Son and Spirit. Three persons in one God live united in the depth of love, in community, sharing that communion with all of us.

So, as you gather today in this great celebration, I want to both express my gratitude to you and also an encouragement to continue to build up community, friendship, as brothers and sisters in your daily lives, in your families, in your parishes, in the Archdiocese and throughout our world.

I’d like to send a special word of greeting to all the young people - those of you gathered together today, and many of you who are perhaps watching this greeting through technological means, on the internet. As you grow up together, you may realise, especially having lived through the time of the pandemic - times of isolation, great difficulty, sometimes even difficulties in your families, or in our world today. Sometimes it may be that the context of your life has not given you the opportunity to live the faith, to live as participants in a faith community, and I’d like to take this opportunity to invite each one of you to look into your own hearts, to recognise that God is present and that, perhaps in many different ways, God is reaching out to you, calling you, inviting you to know his Son Jesus Christ, through the Scriptures, perhaps through a friend or a relative… a grandparent, who might be a person of faith. But to discover how important it is for each one of us to pay attention to the presence of God in our own hearts, to that longing for love in our lives, for … searching, a true searching, for finding the ways that we may be able to do something with our own lives to serve others.

And in that service to others we may find that coming together in friendship, building up community, we too can find true meaning in our lives. Moments of anxiety, of loneliness. So many people who suffer from different experiences of depression or sadness - they can discover that the love of God is truly healing, that it brings hope, and that actually, coming together as friends, as brothers and sisters, in community, in a parish, in an experience of living our faith together, we can find that the Lord’s grace, that the love of God can truly heal us, can give us the strength that we need, can be the source of that hope that we all need in our lives.

To share that message of hope with one another - in outreach, in service, in looking for ways to make our world a better place - gives true life to all of us, and is a sign of hope for the whole world.

To, once again, the young people who are gathered here, I’d like to say that you are the promise of hope for so many of us. The world looks to you as you look around yourselves and say: we need you, we want you to come together to share with us in this common mission, as Church and in society, of announcing a message of true hope and of promoting peace, promoting harmony, among all peoples.

We have to look beyond our own - if you will - egotistical ways. We have to look for ways of coming together and promoting a message of hope. Saint Augustine says to us that if we want the world to be a better place, we have to begin with ourselves, we have to begin with our own lives, our own hearts (cfr Speech 311; Comment on St John’s Gospel, Homily 77).

And so, in this sense, as you gather together as a faith community, as you celebrate in the Archdiocese of Chicago, as you offer your own experience of joy and of hope, you can find out, you can discover that you, too, are indeed beacons of hope. That light, that perhaps on the horizon is not very easy to see, and yet, as we grow in our unity, as we come together in communion, we can discover that that light will grow brighter and brighter. That light which is indeed our faith in Jesus Christ. And we can become that message of hope, to promote peace and unity throughout our world.

We all live with many questions in our hearts. Saint Augustine speaks so often of our “restless” hearts and says: “our hearts are restless until they rest in you, O God” (Confessions 1,1,1). That restlessness is not a bad thing, and we shouldn’t look for ways to put out the fire, to eliminate or even numb ourselves to the tensions that we feel, the difficulties that we experience. We should rather get in touch with our own hearts and recognise that God can work in our lives, through our lives, and through us reach out to other people.

And so I’d like to conclude this brief message to all of you with an invitation to be, indeed, that light of hope. “Hope does not disappoint”, Saint Paul tells us in his letter to the Romans (5,5). When I see each and every one of you, when I see how people gather together to celebrate their faith, I discover myself how much hope there is in the world.

In this Jubilee Year of Hope, Christ, who is our hope, indeed calls all of us to come together, that we might be that true living example: the light of hope in the world today.

So I would like to invite all of you to take a moment, to open up your own hearts to God, to God’s love, to that peace which only the Lord can give us. To feel how deeply beautiful, how strong, how meaningful the love of God is in our lives. And to recognise that while we do nothing to earn God’s love, God in his own generosity continues to pour out his love upon us. And as he gives us his love, he only asks us to be generous and to share what he has given us with others.

May you indeed be blessed as you gather together for this celebration. May the Lord’s love and peace come upon each and every one of you, upon your families, and may God bless all of you, so that you might always be beacons of hope, a sign of hope and peace throughout our world.

And may the blessing of Almighty God, the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit come upon you and remain with you always. Amen.