This morning's General Audience began at 9:25 in Saint Peter's Square. The Holy Father, Pope Francis met there with groups of pilgrims and the faithful from Italy and from every corner of the world.
In his speech, the Pope continued the cycle of catecheses on Christian hope, focusing on the theme: The Mother of Hope (cf Jn 19:25-27).
After having summarized his catechesis in various languages, the Holy Father addressed particular greetings to each group of the faithful in attendance.
The General Audience concluded with the chanting of the Pater Noster and the Apostolic blessing.
Dear brothers and sisters, good morning!
In our schedule of catecheses on Christian hope, today we look to Mary, Mother of hope. Mary spent more than one night on her maternal journey. From her earliest appearance in the gospels, her character stands out as though she were the central character in a drama. It was not easy to respond with her yes to the angel's invitation: yet she, a woman who was still in the flower of her youth, responded with courage, despite not knowing anything about the destiny that awaited her. In that moment, Mary was just like many others of the mothers in our world, courageous to the extreme when it comes to welcoming within her womb the adventure of a new man who is to be born.
That yes was the first step in a long list of obediences - a long list of obediences! - that would be part of her life as a mother. In this way, Mary appears in the gospels as a silent woman, who sometimes did not understand everything that happened around her, but who meditated on every word and every event, treasuring them in her heart.
In this moment, we have a beautiful glimpse into Mary`s psyche: she is not a woman who gets depressed when she is faced with the uncertainties of life, especially when nothing seems to go the right way. Nor is she even a woman who protests violently, who grumbles against the destiny of a life that often reveals itself with a hostile face. Instead, she is a woman who listens: do not forget that there is always a great relationship between hope and listening, and Mary is a woman who listens. Mary accepts existence just as it is given to us, with its happy days, but also with its tragedies, which we would never have wanted to come across – until Mary’s supreme night, when her Son is nailed to the wood of the cross.
Until that day, Mary almost disappeared from the plot of the Gospels: the sacred writers let this slow eclipsing of her presence be understood, her remaining silent before the mystery of a Son who obeys the Father. However, Mary reappeared precisely at the crucial moment, when a good part of Jesus' friends had vanished out of fear. Mothers do not betray and, at that instant, at the foot of the cross, no one of us can say which was the most cruel passion: that of an innocent man who dies on the gibbet of the cross, or the agony of a mother who witnesses the final moments of the life of her son. The Gospels are laconic and extremely discreet. They record with a simple verb the Mother’s presence: she was (John 19:25), she was. They say nothing of her reaction, if she was weeping, if she was not weeping . . . nothing; not even a brush stroke to describe her sorrow: on these details the imagination of poets and painters would then venture, giving us images that have entered in the history of art and of literature. But the Gospels only tell us: she was. She was there, in the most awful moment, in the most cruel moment, and she suffered with her Son. Was, Mary was, she was simply there. Behold her again, the young woman of Nazareth, now with greying hair with the passing of the years, still struggling with a God who must only be embraced, and with a life that has reached the threshold of the densest darkness. Mary was in the densest darkness, but she was. She did not go away. Mary is there, faithfully present, every time that a lighted candle must be held in a place of mist and fog. She does not even know the destiny of resurrection that her Son was opening for all of us men at that precise moment: she is there out of fidelity to God’s plan, of whom she proclaimed herself a handmaid on the first day of her vocation, but also because of her mother’s instinct, who simply suffers, every time there is a son who goes through a passion. The sufferings of mothers: we have all known strong women, who have faced so many sufferings of their children!
We will find her again on the first day of the Church, she, Mother of hope, in the midst of that community of such frail disciples: one had denied, many fled, all were afraid (cf Acts 1:14). But she was simply there, in the most normal of ways, as if it were an altogether natural thing: in the first Church enveloped by the light of the Resurrection, but also by the tremors of the first steps that it must take in the world.
For this, we all love her as our Mother. We are not orphans: we have a Mother in Heaven, who is the Holy Mother of God. Because she teaches us the virtue of waiting, even when everything appears nonsensical: she is always confident in the mystery of God, even when He seems to eclipse Himself because of the evil in the world. In moments of difficulty may Mary - the Mother that Jesus gave all of us - always be able to support our steps, always be able to say to our heart: Rise! Look ahead, look at the horizon, because she is a Mother of hope. Thank you.
The Holy Father's catechesis was then summarized in various languages, and he greeted each group of the faithful. To English-speaking pilgrims, he said:
I greet the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors taking part in today’s Audience, particularly the groups from England, Scotland, Wales, Ireland, Finland, Mainland China, Indonesia, Taiwan, India, the Philippines, Canada and the United States of America. In the joy of the Risen Christ, I invoke upon you and your families the loving mercy of God our Father. May the Lord bless you all!
In his speech, the Pope continued the cycle of catecheses on Christian hope, focusing on the theme: The Mother of Hope (cf Jn 19:25-27).
After having summarized his catechesis in various languages, the Holy Father addressed particular greetings to each group of the faithful in attendance.
The General Audience concluded with the chanting of the Pater Noster and the Apostolic blessing.
Catechesis of the Holy Father, Pope Francis
for the General Audience
Dear brothers and sisters, good morning!
In our schedule of catecheses on Christian hope, today we look to Mary, Mother of hope. Mary spent more than one night on her maternal journey. From her earliest appearance in the gospels, her character stands out as though she were the central character in a drama. It was not easy to respond with her yes to the angel's invitation: yet she, a woman who was still in the flower of her youth, responded with courage, despite not knowing anything about the destiny that awaited her. In that moment, Mary was just like many others of the mothers in our world, courageous to the extreme when it comes to welcoming within her womb the adventure of a new man who is to be born.
That yes was the first step in a long list of obediences - a long list of obediences! - that would be part of her life as a mother. In this way, Mary appears in the gospels as a silent woman, who sometimes did not understand everything that happened around her, but who meditated on every word and every event, treasuring them in her heart.
In this moment, we have a beautiful glimpse into Mary`s psyche: she is not a woman who gets depressed when she is faced with the uncertainties of life, especially when nothing seems to go the right way. Nor is she even a woman who protests violently, who grumbles against the destiny of a life that often reveals itself with a hostile face. Instead, she is a woman who listens: do not forget that there is always a great relationship between hope and listening, and Mary is a woman who listens. Mary accepts existence just as it is given to us, with its happy days, but also with its tragedies, which we would never have wanted to come across – until Mary’s supreme night, when her Son is nailed to the wood of the cross.
Until that day, Mary almost disappeared from the plot of the Gospels: the sacred writers let this slow eclipsing of her presence be understood, her remaining silent before the mystery of a Son who obeys the Father. However, Mary reappeared precisely at the crucial moment, when a good part of Jesus' friends had vanished out of fear. Mothers do not betray and, at that instant, at the foot of the cross, no one of us can say which was the most cruel passion: that of an innocent man who dies on the gibbet of the cross, or the agony of a mother who witnesses the final moments of the life of her son. The Gospels are laconic and extremely discreet. They record with a simple verb the Mother’s presence: she was (John 19:25), she was. They say nothing of her reaction, if she was weeping, if she was not weeping . . . nothing; not even a brush stroke to describe her sorrow: on these details the imagination of poets and painters would then venture, giving us images that have entered in the history of art and of literature. But the Gospels only tell us: she was. She was there, in the most awful moment, in the most cruel moment, and she suffered with her Son. Was, Mary was, she was simply there. Behold her again, the young woman of Nazareth, now with greying hair with the passing of the years, still struggling with a God who must only be embraced, and with a life that has reached the threshold of the densest darkness. Mary was in the densest darkness, but she was. She did not go away. Mary is there, faithfully present, every time that a lighted candle must be held in a place of mist and fog. She does not even know the destiny of resurrection that her Son was opening for all of us men at that precise moment: she is there out of fidelity to God’s plan, of whom she proclaimed herself a handmaid on the first day of her vocation, but also because of her mother’s instinct, who simply suffers, every time there is a son who goes through a passion. The sufferings of mothers: we have all known strong women, who have faced so many sufferings of their children!
We will find her again on the first day of the Church, she, Mother of hope, in the midst of that community of such frail disciples: one had denied, many fled, all were afraid (cf Acts 1:14). But she was simply there, in the most normal of ways, as if it were an altogether natural thing: in the first Church enveloped by the light of the Resurrection, but also by the tremors of the first steps that it must take in the world.
For this, we all love her as our Mother. We are not orphans: we have a Mother in Heaven, who is the Holy Mother of God. Because she teaches us the virtue of waiting, even when everything appears nonsensical: she is always confident in the mystery of God, even when He seems to eclipse Himself because of the evil in the world. In moments of difficulty may Mary - the Mother that Jesus gave all of us - always be able to support our steps, always be able to say to our heart: Rise! Look ahead, look at the horizon, because she is a Mother of hope. Thank you.
I greet the English-speaking pilgrims and visitors taking part in today’s Audience, particularly the groups from England, Scotland, Wales, Ireland, Finland, Mainland China, Indonesia, Taiwan, India, the Philippines, Canada and the United States of America. In the joy of the Risen Christ, I invoke upon you and your families the loving mercy of God our Father. May the Lord bless you all!
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