Earlier today, the Holy Father, Pope Francis received in audience the President of the Republic of Togo, His Excellency, Mister Faure Essozimna Gnassingbé, who subsequently met with His Eminence, the Cardinal Secretary of State, Pietro Parolin, accompanied by His Excellency, Paul Richard Gallagher, Secretary for Relations with States.
During the cordial discussions, the good existing relations between the Holy See and Togo were evoked, as well as the prospects of their further consolidation. In this context, the parties focused on the current situation of the country, underlining the contribution of the Catholic Church to the integral development of the Togolese population, especially through her commitment in the fields of education and healthcare.
Finally, some challenges specific to the countries of West and Sub-Saharan Africa were discussed, showing the need for joint efforts at regional and international levels in favour of security, stability and peace.
At 12:10pm today (6:10am EDT), in the Clementine Hall inside the Vatican Apostolic Palace, the Holy Father, Pope Francis received in audience the barbers and hairdressers who are part of various Committees of Saint Martin of Porres. They are on a pilgrimage to Rome.
Greetings of the Holy Father, Pope Francis
offered to barbers and hairdressers
Dear brothers and sisters,
You have made use of the usual day of rest of your trade to organize a pilgrimage to Rome to visit the tombs of the Apostles and to meet the Successor of Peter. I welcome you with cordial greetings and I thank every one of you, in particular your coordinator, who introduced the meeting. You represent the barbers, hairdressers and beauticians gathered in the Saint Martin de Porres Committee, present in many Italian regions.
This pilgrimage is a sign of the importance you attach to the Christian faith, as well as of the religious dimension that characterizes your association. This can already be seen from the fact that it is named after a saint, the Peruvian Martin de Porres. Of mixed race, he was accepted into the Order of the Dominican Fathers only as a tertiary and then as a co-operator brother. He accepted this condition, living an existence of the greatest humility, infused with love. He devoted himself with self-denial to the poor and to the sick, providing health care for them, thanks to the notions he first learned in a pharmacy and then as a student of a barber-surgeon, according to the custom of that time.
May the humble and great figure of Saint Martin de Porres, whom Pope Saint Paul VI, in 1966, proclaimed patron of your trade, help you constantly to witness Christian values. Above all, may he encourage you to practice your profession in a Christian style, treating customers with kindness and courtesy, and always offering them a good and encouraging word, avoiding giving in to the temptation of gossip that can easily creep into your work environment, as we all know. May each one of you, in carrying out your typical professional work, always act with rectitude, thus making a positive contribution to the common good of society.
I accompany these hopes by invoking the gifts of the Holy Spirit on each of you and on your association, as well as on your collaborators and family members. I ask you to pray for me, and now I give you my Apostolic Blessing. Original text in Italian
For the Feast of Divine Mercy, some thoughts about the role the risen Jesus continues to play in the lives of all his disciples.
Jesus: God's Divine Mercy
The gospel for this second Sunday of the Easter season places us with the disciples in the house where they had met (Jn 20:19). The gospel writer tells us that it was evening on the day Jesus rose from the dead ... and the doors of the house ... were locked for fear of the Jews. At this point in the story, they had already heard the testimony of Mary of Magdala and the other women who had gone to the tomb early that morning. Peter and John had run to the tomb and confirmed the fact that the stone had been rolled away. Yet, despite these hope-filled experiences, the disciples still feared for their lives. If the Jewish authorities had put their Teacher, their Master, to death, perhaps they too would be killed if they dared to show their faces.
What about us? Have we ever experienced such fear? Have we ever known a time when we had good news to share, but we were afraid to speak for fear that we would be ridiculed or judged for speaking. Have we ever chosen to remain silent, with the doors of our hearts locked for fear of being ridiculed?
Even though the doors of the house were locked, and even though the disciples were fearful, Jesus came and stood among them and said, 'Peace be with you' (Jn 20:19). Even in the moments when they were most filled with doubt and fear, Jesus stood among them and offered them the gift of his peace, his reassurance and his mercy ... and these gifts were also offered to Thomas, even though he was not with the other disciples when Jesus came (Jn 20:24).
Jesus knows our hearts even better than we do. He knows that no matter how fervently we may believe all that we have heard about him, there is always a part of us that remains imprisoned by fear and doubt, but even in situations where we are paralyzed by doubt, Jesus still stands in our midst and says to us: Peace be with you! It is this powerful gift of his peace, the beautiful gift of his mercy at work within us that allows us to discern, to witness and to appreciate how patient he is with each one of us.
On the second Sunday of Easter in the year 2000, Pope John Paul II canonized Saint Faustyna Kowalska and established the annual celebration of Divine Mercy Sunday. Since that day, the Church has continued to observe this feast day. Maria Faustyna Kowalska of the Blessed Sacrament (1905-1938) was a Polish nun and a mystic who received visions of Jesus.
Like the disciples gathered in the house on the evening hours of the day when Jesus rose from the dead, Saint Faustyna shared the details of her visions and as a result, even today, the experiences that are described are as fresh and life-giving for us as they were for those who first read them.
Through the intercession of Saint Faustyna Kowalska, may we be attentive to the many signs and wonders (Acts 5:12) that continue to be accomplished among God's people. Renewed by the light of the risen Lord, may we proclaim in Word and deed: Jesus, my risen Lord, I trust in you.
Jésus: la miséricorde divine de Dieu
L'évangile de ce deuxième dimanche de Pâques nous place avec les disciples là où ils se trouvaient (Jn 20, 19). L'auteur de l'évangile nous dit que le soir était déjà venu, du premier jour de la semaine, le jour même où Jésus était ressuscité ... et que les portes du lieu ... étaient verrouillées par crainte des Juifs. À ce stade de l'histoire, ils avaient déjà entendu le témoignage des femmes qui s'étaient rendues à la tombe au grand matin. Pierre et Jean avaient couru vers la tombe et ils avaient confirmé le fait que la pierre avait été roulée. Pourtant, malgré ces expériences remplies d'espoir, les disciples craignaient toujours pour leur vie. Si les autorités juives avaient mis à mort leur Maître, et peut-être seraient-ils aussi tués s'ils osaient se montrer le visage en publique.
Et nous? Avons-nous déjà vécu une telle peur? Avons-nous déjà connu une époque où nous avions de bonnes nouvelles à partager, mais nous avions peur de parler, de peur d'être ridiculisés ou jugés pour avoir pris la parole. Avons-nous jamais choisi de rester silencieux, avec les portes de nos cœurs verrouillées de peur d'être ridiculisé?
Même si les portes de la maison étaient verrouillées et que les disciples avaient peur, Jésus est venu et s'est tenu parmi eux. Il leur a dit: La paix soit avec vous (Jn 20, 19). Même dans les moments où ils étaient le plus remplis de doute et de peur, Jésus se tenait parmi eux et leur offrait les dons de sa paix, son assurance et sa miséricorde ... et ces dons étaient également offerts à Thomas, même s'il n'était pas avec les autres disciples quand Jésus est venu la premiere fois (Jn 20:24).
Jésus connaît nos cœurs encore mieux que nous les connaissons nous-memes. Il sait que peu importe avec quelle ferveur nous croyons tout ce que nous avons entendu a son sujet, il y a toujours une partie de nous qui reste emprisonnée dans la peur et le doute, mais même dans les situations où nous sommes paralysés par le doute, Jésus se tient toujours au milieu et nous dit: La paix soit avec vous! C’est ce don puissant de sa paix, le beau don de sa miséricorde au travail en nous qui nous permet de discerner, de témoigner et d’apprécier combien il est patient avec chacun de nous.
Lors du deuxième dimanche de Pâques de l'an 2000, le pape Jean-Paul II a canonisé Sainte Faustyna Kowalska et il a institué la célébration annuelle du dimanche de la Miséricorde divine. Depuis ce jour, l'Église a continué à observer ce jour de fête. Maria Faustyna Kowalska du Saint Sacrement (1905-1938) était une religieuse polonaise et une mystique qui a eu des visions de Jésus.
Comme les disciples rassemblés dans la maison le soir du jour où Jésus est ressuscité, Sainte Faustine a partage les détails de ses visions et, de ce fait, même aujourd'hui, les expériences décrites sont aussi fraîches et vivifiantes pour nous qu'ils étaient pour ceux qui les ont lus pour la première fois.
Par l'intercession de sainte Faustyna Kowalska, puissions-nous être attentifs aux nombreux signes et merveilles (Actes 5.12) qui continuent à être accomplis parmi le peuple de Dieu. Renouvelés par la lumière du Seigneur ressuscité, puissions-nous proclamer en paroles et en actes: Jésus, mon Seigneur ressuscité, j'ai confiance en vous.
At noon today in Rome (6:00am EDT), the Second Sunday of Easter and Divine Mercy Sunday, the Holy Father, Pope Francis appeared at the window of his study inside the Vatican Apostolic Palace to recite the Regina Coeli with the faithful and with pilgrims gathered in Saint Peter's Square.
Greetings of the Holy Father, Pope Francis
prior to the recitation of the Regina Coeli
Dear brothers and sisters, good morning!
Today's gospel (cf Jn 20:19-31) explains that on Easter day, Jesus appeared to his disciples in the Upper Room, in the evening, bringing three gifts with him: peace, joy and apostolic mission.
The first words he says are: Peace be with you (Jn 20:21). The Risen Lord brings authentic peace, because through his sacrifice on the cross he has achieved the reconciliation between God and humanity and has conquered sin and death. This is the true meaning of peace. His disciples first needed this peace, because, after the capture and death sentence of their Master, they had fallen into bewilderment and fear. Jesus presented himself alive among them and, showing them his wounds - Jesus wanted to preserve his wounds - on his glorious body, he gave them peace as the fruit of his victory. But that evening the Apostle Thomas was not present. Informed about this extraordinary event, he was incredulous before the testimony of the other Apostles and insisted on personally verifying the truth of what they affirmed. Eight days later, that is just like today, the apparition was repeated: Jesus came to meet Thomas' incredulity, inviting him to touch his wounds. They constitute the source of peace, because they are the sign of the immense love of Jesus who defeated the forces that are hostile to man: sin and death. He invited Thomas to touch his wounds. This is a teaching for us, as if Jesus were saying to all of us: If you are not at peace, touch my wounds.
Touch the wounds of Jesus which are the many problems, difficulties, persecutions and diseases of so many suffering people. Are you not at peace? Go, go to visit someone who is the symbol of the wounds of Jesus. Touch the wounds of Jesus. From those wounds comes mercy. This is why today is the Sunday of mercy. A saint said that the body of Jesus crucified is like a lot of mercy, that through his wounds he reaches us all. We all need mercy, we know that. Let us draw near to Jesus and touch his wounds in our suffering brothers and sisters. The wounds of Jesus are a treasure: mercy comes from those wounds. We must be brave and touch the wounds of Jesus. With these wounds He stands before the Father and he shows them to the Father, as if he were saying: Father, this is the price, these wounds are what I paid for my brothers. With his wounds, Jesus intercedes before the Father. He gives us mercy if we approach, and he intercedes for us. Don't forget the wounds of Jesus.
The second gift that the risen Jesus brings to the disciples is joy. The evangelist tells us that the disciples rejoiced to see the Lord (Jn 20:20). And there is also a verse, in Luke's version, which says that in their joy they could not believe their eyes. We too, when maybe something incredible happens, something nice, we can say: I can't believe it, this is not true!. Such were the disciples, they could not believe, out of joy. This is the joy that Jesus brings us. If you are sad, if you are not at peace, look to Jesus crucified, look to the risen Jesus, look at his wounds and you will find joy.
And then, in addition to peace and joy, Jesus also gives the disciples the gift of mission. He tells them: As the Father has sent me, so I send you (Jn 20:21). The resurrection of Jesus is the beginning of a new dynamism of love, capable of transforming the world with the presence of the Holy Spirit.
On this second Sunday of Easter, we are invited to approach Christ with faith, to open our hearts to peace, joy and mission. But let us not forget the wounds of Jesus, because peace, joy and strength for the mission come from touching his wounds. We entrust this prayer to the maternal intercession of the Virgin Mary, queen of heaven and earth.
Queen of Heaven, rejoice! Alleluia!For he whom you merited to bear, Alleluia,Has risen as he said, Alleluia!Pray for us to God, Alleluia!Rejoice and be glad, O Virgin Mary, Alleluia!For the Lord has truly risen, Alleluia!
Let us pray:O God, who through the resurrection of your Son, Our Lord Jesus Christgave rejoicing to the worldgrant, we pray, that through his Mother, the Virgin Mary,we may obtain the joys of everlasting life.Through the same Christ our Lord. Amen.
Dear brothers and sisters,
Yesterday, in La Riojia, in Argentina, Enrique Angel Angelelli, a Diocesan Bishop; Carlos de Dios Murias, a Conventual Franciscan; Gabriel Longueville, a priest by the gift of faith; and Wenceslao Pedernera, a father and a catechist were beatified. These martyrs for the faith were persecuted because of justice and evangelical charity. Their example and their intercession support in particular those who work for a more just and united society. One of them was French, he went as a missionary to Argentina. The other three were Argentines. Let us applaud the new blesseds, all of them!
I invite you to join my prayer for the refugees who are in detention centres in Libya, whose situation, already very serious, is made even more dangerous by the ongoing conflict. I appeal for the special evacuation of women, children and the sick as soon as possible through humanitarian corridors.
And let us also pray for those who lost their lives or suffered serious damage from the recent floods in South Africa. These brothers of ours also need our solidarity and the concrete support of the international community.
I greet all of you, the faithful of Rome and pilgrims from Italy and from many other countries, in particular the faithful from Tlalnepantla (Mexico), the youth from Valencia, the students from Tricase, the adolescents from Arcore and those of Carugo; the faithful from Modugno and Genoa. A special greeting to the diocesan pilgrimage of families from the Archdiocese of Trani-Barletta-Bisceglie, as well as to the devotees of the Divine Mercy gathered today in the church of Santo Spirito in Sassia.
To our brothers and sisters who are part of the Eastern Churches who today, according to the Julian calendar, celebrate Easter, I offer cordial wishes. May the risen Lord give you joy and peace! And let us also applaud all Eastern Catholics and Orthodox, to say to them: Happy Easter!
Finally, I thank all those who during this period have sent me messages and greetings for Easter. I willingly exchange these greetings with all of you, invoking every blessing for you and for your families.
Happy Sunday to all of you! And please, don't forget to pray for me. Enjoy your lunch and good bye! Original text in Italian
Having celebrated the Easter Vigil among the English-language parishioners entrusted to my pastoral care, this morning, I celebrated two liturgies, each with a different community of faith. In this case, both of the Masses celebrated were in French, therefore the text of today's reflection appears first in French and then in English.
Il est ressuscité
À son réveil d'un coma qui avait duré vingt-trois ans, le Belge Rom Houben en a surpris plus d'une personne. Certains ont même parlé de résurrection. Ce terme est également utilisé en lien avec des personnes mortes que Jésus ramène à la vie: la fille de Jaïre (Mc 5:41), le jeune de Naïm (Luc 7:14-15) et Lazare (Jn 11, 43-44). Dans ces cas, des personnes reprennent leur vie biologique et prolongent leur existence. Et plus tard, ils connaîtront encore la mort.
La résurrection de Jésus est d'un autre ordre. Ressuscité d'entre les morts, le Christ ne meurt plus; la mort n'a plus de pouvoir sur lui (Rom 6,9). Il ne s'agit donc pas d'un retour du coma ou d'une reprise de la vie après une mort clinique, mais plutôt de l'entrée dans une existence qui se déploie au-delà de l'espace et du temps, une existence en Dieu. Désormais, le Ressuscité assure sa présence lumineuse partout et en même temps. Et toute personne qui l'accueille communie à sa vie. N'est-ce pas ce qu'évoque le tombeau trouvé vide le matin de Pâques?
À la fin de notre existence terrestre, nous connaîtrons la même résurrection: mourir au monde, une fois pour toutes, ressusciter et demeurer pour toujours avec Dieu. Aujourd'hui, nous prenons déjà part à cette nouvelle vie quand nous aimons à la manière du Christ.
Joyeuses Pâques!
(Inspiré par Jacques Kabangu)
He is risen
Waking from a coma that had lasted for twenty-three years, the Blegian man Rom Houben suprised many people. Some of them even spoke of resurrection. This term was also used in reference to people who Jesus raised to life: the daughter of Jairus (Mk 5:41), the young man from Nain (Lk 7:14-15) and Lazarus (Jn 11:43-44). In each of these cases, people were restored to physical life and their existence was prolonged. Later, they would die again.
Jesus' resurrection is another matter. Raised from the dead, Christ will never die again; death has no power over him (Rom 6:9). This is not merely a matter of returning from a coma or having a second chance at life after a clinical death, but rather it is an entrance into an existence that unfolds beyond the limits of space and time, an existence in God. From now on, the Risen One ensures his luminous presence everywhere and at the same time. And everyone who welcomes him is in touch with his life. Is this not what is evoked by the tomb that was found empty on Easter morning?
At the end of our earthly existence, we will experience the same resurrection: to die in the world, once and for all, to rise and remain forever with God. Today, we are already taking part in this new life when we love like Jesus loves us.
At noon today local time in Rome (6:00am EDT), from the central loggia of the Vatican Basilica, the Holy Father, Pope Francis addressed those who were gathered in Saint Peter's Square and all those who were following by means of radio, television and social media, sharing with them his Message for Easter.
Message of the Holy Father, Pope Francis
for Easter
Dear Brothers and Sisters, Happy Easter!
Today the Church renews the proclamation made by the first disciples: Jesus is risen! And from mouth to mouth, from heart to heart, there resounds a call to praise: Alleluia, Alleluia! On this morning of Easter, the perennial youth of the Church and of humanity as a whole, I would like to address each of you in the opening words of my recent Apostolic Exhortation devoted especially to young people:
Christ is alive! He is our hope, and in a wonderful way he brings youth to our world. Everything he touches becomes young, new, full of life. The very first words, then, that I would like to say to every young Christian are these: Christ is alive and he wants you to be alive! He is in you, he is with you and he never abandons you. However far you may wander, he is always there, the Risen One. He calls you and he waits for you to return to him and start over again. When you feel you are growing old out of sorrow, resentment or fear, doubt or failure, he will always be there to restore your strength and your hope (Christus Vivit, 1-2).
Dear brothers and sisters, this message is also addressed to every person in the world. The resurrection of Christ is the principle of new life for every man and every woman, for true renewal always begins from the heart, from the conscience. Yet Easter is also the beginning of the new world, set free from the slavery of sin and death: the world open at last to the Kingdom of God, a Kingdom of love, peace and fraternity.
Christ is alive and he remains with us. Risen, he shows us the light of his face, and he does not abandon all those experiencing hardship, pain and sorrow. May he, the Living One, be hope for the beloved Syrian people, victims of an ongoing conflict to which we risk becoming ever more resigned and even indifferent. Now is instead the time for a renewed commitment for a political solution able to respond to people’s legitimate hopes for freedom, peace and justice, confront the humanitarian crisis and favour the secure re-entry of the homeless, along with all those who have taken refuge in neighbouring countries, especially Lebanon and Jordan.
Easter makes us keep our eyes fixed on the Middle East, torn by continuing divisions and tensions. May the Christians of the region patiently persevere in their witness to the Risen Lord and to the victory of life over death. I think in particular of the people of Yemen, especially the children, exhausted by hunger and war. May the light of Easter illumine all government leaders and peoples in the Middle East, beginning with Israelis and Palestinians, and spur them to alleviate such great suffering and to pursue a future of peace and stability.
May conflict and bloodshed cease in Libya, where defenceless people are once more dying in recent weeks and many families have been forced to abandon their homes. I urge the parties involved to choose dialogue over force and to avoid reopening wounds left by a decade of conflicts and political instability.
May the Living Christ grant his peace to the entire beloved African continent, still rife with social tensions, conflicts and at times violent forms of extremism that leave in their wake insecurity, destruction and death, especially in Burkina Faso, Mali, Niger, Nigeria and Cameroon. I think too of Sudan, presently experiencing a moment of political uncertainty; it is my hope that all voices will be heard, and that everyone will work to enable the country to find the freedom, development and well-being to which it has long aspired.
May the Risen Lord accompany the efforts of the civil and religious authorities of South Sudan, sustained by the fruits of the spiritual retreat held several days ago here in the Vatican. May a new page open in the history of that country, in which all political, social and religious components actively commit themselves to the pursuit of the common good and the reconciliation of the nation.
May this Easter bring comfort to the people of the eastern regions of Ukraine, who suffer from the continuing conflict. May the Lord encourage initiatives of humanitarian aid and those aimed at pursuing a lasting peace.
May the joy of the resurrection fill the hearts of those who on the American continent are experiencing the effects of difficult political and economic situations. I think in particular of the Venezuelan people, of all those who lack the minimal conditions for leading a dignified and secure life due to a crisis that endures and worsens. May the Lord grant that all those with political responsibilities may work to end social injustices, abuses and acts of violence, and take the concrete steps needed to heal divisions and offer the population the help they need.
May the Risen Lord shed his light on the efforts made in Nicaragua to find as rapidly as possible a peaceful negotiated solution for the benefit of the entire Nicaraguan people.
Before the many sufferings of our time, may the Lord of life not find us cold and indifferent. May he make us builders of bridges, not walls. May the One who gives us his peace end the roar of arms, both in areas of conflict and in our cities, and inspire the leaders of nations to work for an end to the arms race and the troubling spread of weaponry, especially in the economically more advanced countries. May the Risen Christ, who flung open the doors of the tomb, open our hearts to the needs of the disadvantaged, the vulnerable, the poor, the unemployed, the marginalized, and all those who knock at our door in search of bread, refuge, and the recognition of their dignity.
At 10:00am this morning in Rome (4:00am EDT), in Saint Peter's Square, the Holy Father, Pope Francis presided over te solemn celebration of the Mass for Easter Day.
The celebration began with the rite of Resurrexit, and included the participation of the faithful of Rome as well as pilgrims from every corner of the world who are in Rome for the Easter festivities.
This evening, we celebrated the Vigil of the Lord's Resurrection. As we wait in prayer for the good news to be revealed, we had the privilege of celebrating the Baptism of one adult and the Confirmation of three adults who have reached these significant moments in their journeys of faith.
The tomb is empty
Two years ago, I made my most recent pilgrimage to the Holy Land. On the last morning of our trip, we found ourselves in Jerusalem. Early in the morning, our group of 42 pilgrims arrived in the city. Together, we made our way along the Via Crucis - the Stations of the Cross. It ends at the Holy Sepulcher: the tomb in which the body of Jesus was placed following the crucifixion. Our guide had warned us that there are normally many visitors lining up every day to visit this holy place. While we stood outside and meditated on the last three stations of the cross, our guide went to check the length of the lineup to enter the tomb. We had only just finished our meditation on the thirteenth station when Anton arrived to call out to us: Come, come now, the tomb is empty!
This is the scene I have always envisioned at the moment when the women who had visited the tomb on Easter morning arrived in the Upper Room, when they told the Eleven what they had experienced at the sepulchre: about the two men who stood in front of them in dazzling clothes (Lk 24: 4) In fact, this is the way that we must all understand life, because the Passion of the Lord does not really end with death on the cross, but rather with him coming out of the tomb.
Following the ignoble death of their Lord, the Apostles lost heart: their dream of a new kingdom had just collapsed. They wanted to return to their old lives, the lifestyles they had known before they had met the Master of Nazareth. It was at this time that the Lord took the initiative to call his Son from death and lift him up: his teaching, his plana and his gestures turn out to be authentic and life-giving. For us, and for the whole Church, this resurrection is the fulcrum of faith.
In fact, it is for us that the Lord raised his Son, because along with him, he wants to lead us into the new life in which we have been participating since the day of our baptism. From that point on, as disciples of Christ, we are constantly being invited to radiate the light of the resurrection. We do it when we turn away from selfishness and direct our lives towards love without measure.
Le tombeau est vide
Il y a deux ans, j'ai effectué mon dernier pèlerinage en la Terre Sainte. Le dernier matin de notre séjour nous a trouvé à Jérusalem. De grand matin, je suis arrivé à cette ville en compagnie de 42 autres. Nous avons parcourus ensemble le chemin de la croix qui se termine au Saint-Sépulcre: le tombeau dans lequel le corps de Jésus était déposé suite à la crucifixion. Notre guide nous a averti qu'il y a normalement beaucoup de visiteurs qui font la queue chaque jour afin de visiter ce lieu saint. Lorsqu'on méditait les derniers trois stations de la croix, notre guide s'est allé vérifier le queue pour entrer dans le tombeau. Nous avons à peine terminé la méditation du treizième station lorsque Anton est arriver nous annoncer à vis voix: venez, venez, le tombeau est vide!
C'est ainsi que j'ai toujours envisagé l'arrivé des femmes au retour du tombeau le matin de Pâques, lorsqu'elles racontaient aux Onze ce qu'elles avaient rencontré au sépulcre: les deux hommes qui se tinrent devant elles en habit éblouissant (Lk 24:4). En fait, c'est vraiment ainsi que nous devons tous comprendre la vie, car la Passion du Seigneur ne finit pas vraiment avec la mort sur la croix, mais plutôt avec la sortie du tombeau.
À la suite de la mort ignominieuse de leur Seigneur, les Apôtres ont perdu coeur: leur rêve d'un nouveau royaume venait de s'effondrer. Ils voulaient alors revenir à leur ancienne vie, celle d'avant la rencontre avec le Maître de Nazareth. C'est à ce moment-là que le Seigneur a pris l'initiative d'appeler son Fils de la mort et de le relever: son enseignement, son projet et ses gestes s'avèrent authentiques et porteurs de vie. Pour nous, et pour toute l'Église, cette résurrection constitue le pivot de la foi.
En réalité, c'est pour nous que le Seigneur a ressuscité son Fils, car il veut, avec lui, nous entraîner dans la vie nouvelle à laquelle nous communions depuis le baptême. Désormais, comme disciples du Christ, nous sommes sans cesse invités à rayonner de la lumière de la résurrection. Nous le faisons quand nous nous détournons de l'égoïsme pour orienter notre vie vers l'amour sans mesure.
At 8:30pm this evening, inside the Vatican Basilica, the Holy Father, Pope Francis presided over the solemn Vigil of Easter.
The Rite began in the atrium of Saint Peter's Basilica with the blessing of the fire and the preparation of the Easter candle. This was followed by a procession toward the Altar led by the lit Pascal candle and the signing of the Exultet, then the Liturgy of the Word, the Baptismal Liturgy - during which the Holy Father administered the Sacraments of Christian Initiation to 8 neophites from Italy, Albania, Ecuador, Indonesia and Peru.
Homily of the Holy Father, Pope Francis
for the Vigil of the Lord's Resurrection
The women bring spices to the tomb, but they fear that their journey is in vain, since a large stone bars the entrance to the sepulchre. The journey of those women is also our own journey; it resembles the journey of salvation that we have made this evening. At times, it seems that everything comes up against a stone: the beauty of creation against the tragedy of sin; liberation from slavery against infidelity to the covenant; the promises of the prophets against the listless indifference of the people. So too, in the history of the Church and in our own personal history. It seems that the steps we take never take us to the goal. We can be tempted to think that dashed hope is the bleak law of life.
Today however we see that our journey is not in vain; it does not come up against a tombstone. A single phrase astounds the woman and changes history: Why do you seek the living among the dead? (Lk 24:5). Why do you think that everything is hopeless, that no one can take away your own tombstones? Why do you give in to resignation and failure? Easter is the feast of tombstones taken away, rocks rolled aside. God takes away even the hardest stones against which our hopes and expectations crash: death, sin, fear, worldliness. Human history does not end before a tombstone, because today it encounters the living stone (cf 1 Pet 2:4), the risen Jesus. We, as Church, are built on him, and, even when we grow disheartened and tempted to judge everything in the light of our failures, he comes to make all things new, to overturn our every disappointment. Each of us is called tonight to rediscover in the Risen Christ the one who rolls back from our heart the heaviest of stones. So let us first ask: What is the stone that I need to remove, what is its name?
Often what blocks hope is the stone of discouragement. Once we start thinking that everything is going badly and that things can’t get worse, we lose heart and come to believe that death is stronger than life. We become cynical, negative and despondent. Stone upon stone, we build within ourselves a monument to our own dissatisfaction: the sepulchre of hope. Life becomes a succession of complaints and we grow sick in spirit. A kind of tomb psychology takes over: everything ends there, with no hope of emerging alive. But at that moment, we hear once more the insistent question of Easter: Why do you seek the living among the dead? The Lord is not to be found in resignation. He is risen; he is not there. Don’t seek him where you will never find him: he is not the God of the dead but of the living (cf Mk 22:32). Do not bury hope!
There is another stone that often seals the heart shut: the stone of sin. Sin seduces; it promises things easy and quick, prosperity and success, but then leaves behind only solitude and death. Sin is looking for life among the dead, for the meaning of life in things that pass away. Why do you seek the living among the dead? Why not make up your mind to abandon that sin which, like a stone before the entrance to your heart, keeps God’s light from entering in? Why not prefer Jesus, the true light (cf Jn 1:9), to the glitter of wealth, career, pride and pleasure? Why not tell the empty things of this world that you no longer live for them, but for the Lord of life?
Let us return to the women who went to Jesus’ tomb. They halted in amazement before the stone that was taken away. Seeing the angels, they stood there, the Gospel tells us, frightened, and bowed their faces to the ground (Lk 24:5). They did not have the courage to look up. How often do we do the same thing? We prefer to remain huddled within our shortcomings, cowering in our fears. It is odd, but why do we do this? Not infrequently because, glum and closed up within ourselves, we feel in control, for it is easier to remain alone in the darkness of our hearts than to open ourselves to the Lord. Yet only he can raise us up. A poet once wrote: We never know how high we are. Till we are called to rise (E. Dickinson). The Lord calls us to get up, to rise at his word, to look up and to realize that we were made for heaven, not for earth, for the heights of life and not for the depths of death: Why do you seek the living among the dead?
God asks us to view life as he views it, for in each of us he never ceases to see an irrepressible kernel of beauty. In sin, he sees sons and daughters to be restored; in death, brothers and sisters to be reborn; in desolation, hearts to be revived. Do not fear, then: the Lord loves your life, even when you are afraid to look at it and take it in hand. In Easter he shows you how much he loves that life: even to the point of living it completely, experiencing anguish, abandonment, death, and hell, in order to emerge triumphant to tell you: You are not alone; put your trust in me! Jesus is a specialist at turning our deaths into life, our mourning into dancing (cf Ps 30:11). With him, we too can experience a Pasch, that is, a Passover – from self-centredness to communion, from desolation to consolation, from fear to confidence. Let us not keep our faces bowed to the ground in fear, but raise our eyes to the risen Jesus. His gaze fills us with hope, for it tells us that we are loved unfailingly and that however much we make a mess of things, his love remains unchanged. This is the one, non-negotiable certitude we have in life: his love does not change. Let us ask ourselves: In my life, where am I looking? Am I gazing at graveyards, or looking for the Living One?
Why do you seek the living among the dead? The women hear the words of the angels, who go on to say: Remember what he told you while he was still in Galilee (Lk 24:6). Those women had lost hope because they could not recall the words of Jesus, his call that took place in Galilee. Having lost the living memory of Jesus, they kept looking at the tomb. Faith always needs to go back to Galilee, to reawaken its first love for Jesus and his call: to remember him, to turn back to him with all our mind and all our heart. To return to a lively love of the Lord is essential. Otherwise, ours is a museum faith, not an Easter faith. Jesus is not a personage from the past; he is a person living today. We do not know him from history books; we encounter him in life. Today, let us remember how Jesus first called us, how he overcame our darkness, our resistance, our sins, and how he touched our hearts with his.
The women, remembering Jesus, left the tomb. Easter teaches us that believers do not linger at graveyards, for they are called to go forth to meet the Living One. Let us ask ourselves: In my life, where am I going? Sometimes we go only in the direction of our problems, of which there are plenty, and we go to the Lord only for help. But then, it is our own needs, not Jesus, who guides our steps. We keep seeking the Living One among the dead. Or again, how many times, once we have encountered the Lord, do we return to the dead, digging up regrets, reproaches, hurts, and dissatisfactions, without letting the Risen One change us? Dear brothers and sisters: let us put the Living One at the centre of our lives. Let us ask for the grace not to be carried by the current, the sea of our problems; the grace not to run aground on the shoals of sin or crash on the reefs of discouragement and fear. Let us seek him in all things and above all things. With him, we will rise again.
At 9:15pm this evening (3:15pm EDT), at the Roman Colosseum, the Holy Father presided over the Via Crucis.
Greetings of the Holy Father, Pope Francis
at the conclusion of the Via Crucis
At 9:15pm this evening (3:15pm EDT), the Holy Father, Pope Francis presided over the pious exercise of the Via Crucis (the Way of the Cross). The exercise took place at the Colosseum and was broadcast throughout the world.
The texts of the meditations and the prayers for this year's stations of the Via Crucis were entrusted by the Holy Father to Sister Eugenia Bonetti, a Consolata Missionary Sister who is President of the Slaves no more Association. The focus of the meditations was the suffering of many people who are victims of human trafficking.
Prayer composed by the Holy Father, Pope Francis
which he recited at the conclusion of the Via Crucis
Lord Jesus, help us to see in Your Cross all the crosses of the world:
the cross of people who are hungry for bread and for love;
the cross of people who are alone and abandoned, sometimes by their own parents and relatives;
the cross of people who are thirsting for justice and for peace;
the cross of people who have not know the comfort of faith;
the cross of the elderly who are weighed down by the burden of their years and their loneliness;
the cross of migrants who find all doors closed because of fear and hearts that are hardened by political calculations;
the cross of little ones who have been wounded in their innocence and their powerlessness;
the cross of humanity that wanders in the darkness of uncertainty and the obscurity of the culture of the moment;
the cross of families who have been broken by treachery, by the seductions of the evil one or by murderous indifference and selfishness;
the cross of consecrated persons who tirelessly seek to bring Your light to the world and feel rejected, mocked and humiliated;
the cross of consecrated persons who, along the way, have forgotten their first love;
the cross of your brothers who, believing in You and seeking to live according to Your word, find themselves marginalized and ignored even by their own families and their peers;
the cross of our weaknesses, our hypocrisies, our betrayals our sins and our numerous broken promises;
the cross of Your Church who, faithful to Your Gospel, struggles to share your love even among the baptized themselves;
the cross of the Church, Your bride, who continually feels that she is being attacked, from within and from outside;
the cross of our common home that is seriously withering before our very eyes, which are blinded by selfishness, greed and the thirst for power.
Lord Jesus, reawaken within us the hope of the resurrection and of Your definitive victory over every evil and every death. Amen!
I Station: His Eminence, Angelo Cardinal De Donatis
II Station: Family - Antonio Lìpari, Laura Amico, Gaia and Claudio (Italy)
III Station: Sister Venicia Meurer and Sister Lilly Nanat (Pallottine Sisters from Brazil and India)
IV Station: UNITALSI Costantino Fois (disabled)
Francesco Diella (on a stretcher)
Maria Gisella Molina (sister assistant)
Carla Capuano (sister assistant)
V Station: Patrizia Mason, Laura Manzato and Laura Ferrario (Italia)
VI Station: Stanizzi Family (Italia)
VII Station: Jakub Sniec and Roza Mika (Polonia)
VIII Station: Francesca Armogida and Giovanni Giuliani (Italia)
IX Station: Sister Anelia Gomez da Paiva (Consolata Missionary)
Lucia Capuzzi (Italia)
X Station: Sister Josephine Sim (Canossian Sister)
Patricia Ogiefa and her daughter Cristina Ogiefa (Nigeria)
XI Station: Sister Rita Giaretta and Ezekiel Joy (Casa Rut - Caserta)
XII Station: Sister Mihaela Elizabeta Balauca (Ponte Galeria)
Maria Leonor Jardon (Street unit patrols)
XIII Station: Father Francois M. Shamiyeh (Syria) and Father Theodorus Beta Herdistyan (Brothers from the Holy Land)
XIV Station: His Eminence, Angelo Cardinal De Donatis
Young people carrying the torches: Giovanni Settimio and Gianluca Silva (Italia)
This year, I presided at the Commemoration of the Lord's Passion in French. As a result, the text of my meditation is printed below, first in French and then the English translation follows.
Un amour sans mesure
Il est particulièrement ardu pour nous de réaliser aujourd’hui à quel point il était difficile pour les contemporains de Jésus d’admettre qu’un crucifié puisse être leur sauveur. Supplice infamant chez les Romains, le crucifiement était dans la tradition juive la pire des déchéances (cf Deut 21:23).
Les évangiles nous racontent justement la souffrance quasi inhumaine d’un homme démuni et vulnérable, injustement accusé et acablé. Pourquoi soufre-t-il? Sa croix serait-elle le prix à payer pour calmer le courroux de Dieu et obtenir en échange notre salut? Certainement pas. Car ce n’est pas la somme des souffrances subies par Jésus qui nous sauve, mais le don de sa vie par amour pour nous: un amour sans mesure et une vie donnée sans calcul. La Passion du Christ est certes le récit d’une terrible souffrance, mais c’est aussi une incroyable histoire d’amour offerte une fois pour toutes.
Un tel amour sans mesure, vécu jusqu’au bout et relayé par le témoignage de tant de personnes au fil des siècles continue même aujourd’hui de nous inspirer à l’imiter en desservant nos frères et soeurs par amour et à l’example de Jésus Christ. De fait, si les évènements que nous rappelons aujourd’hui ne nous disait plus rien de nos jours, alors il faudrait crier: Malheur à nous!
Il y a infiniment d’amour et de vie dans la Passion et dans la mort du Christ, qui n’attendent que le matin de Pâques pour éclore.
(Inspiré par Rodhain Kasuba)
Love without measure
Today, it is particularly difficult for us to realize how difficult it was for those who knew Jesus' to admit that a crucified man might be their saviour. Infamous torment among the Romans, crucifixion was the worst possible punishment according to Jewish tradition (cf Deut 21:23).
The gospels tell us about the almost inhuman suffering of a destitute and vulnerable man, unjustly accused and sentenced. Why did he suffer? Was his cross the price to pay in order to calm the wrath of God and obtain our salvation in exchange? Certainly not. For it is not the sum of the sufferings suffered by Jesus who saves us, but the gift of his life, given out of love for us: a love without measure and a life given without measure. The Passion of Christ is certainly a story of terrible suffering, but it is also an incredible love story offered once and for all.
Such a love without measure, lived to the end and relayed by the testimony of so many people through the centuries continues even today to inspire us to imitate it by serving our brothers and sisters out of love and inspired by the example of Jesus Christ. In fact, if the events we are recalling today do not tell us anything, then we should be the ones to shout: Woe to us!
There is infinite love and life in the Passion and in the death of Christ. This love, this life is only waiting for the morning of Easter to break forth.
At 4:45pm this afternoon local time (10:45am EDT), inside the Vatican Basilica, the Holy Father, Pope Francis presided over the celebration of the Liturgy for the Passion of the Lord.
During the Liturgy of the Word, the account of the Passion according to Saint John was read aloud; then the Preacher of the Papal Household, Father Raniero Cantalamessa, OFM Cap. delivered the homily.
The Liturgy of the Passion of the Lord continued with the Prayers of the Faithful and the adoration of the Holy Cross, and concluded with the distribution of Holy Communion.
Homily of Father Raniero Cantalamessa, OFM Cap
offered during the celebration of the Lord's Passion
He was despised and rejected by men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not. (Is 53:3)
These are the prophetic words of Isaiah with which we begin the Liturgy of the Word today. The account of the passion that follows has given a name and a face to this mysterious man of sorrows who was despised and rejected by all men: the name and the face of Jesus of Nazareth. Today we want to contemplate the Crucified One specifically in his capacity as the prototype and representative of all the rejected, the disinherited, and the discarded of the earth, those from whom we turn aside our faces so as not to see them.
Jesus did not begin to be that man just at his passion. Throughout his life, he was part of this group. He is born in a stable because there was no place for them in the inn (Lk 2:7). In presenting him in the temple, his parents offered two turtledoves or two young pigeons, the offering proscribed by the law for the poor who could not offer a lamb (cf Lev 12:8). That was genuine proof of poverty in Israel of that time. During his public life, he had nowhere to lay his head (cf Mt 8:20): he was homeless.
Now we come to his passion. In the account, there is a moment that we do not often focus on but that is extremely significant: Jesus in Pilate's praetorium (cf Mk 15:16-20). The soldiers had noticed a bramble bush in the adjacent open space; they gathered some thorny branches from it and pressed them into his head; to mock him they put a cloak on his shoulders that were still bloody from his scourging; his hands were bound with a rough rope; they placed a reed in his hands, an ironic symbol of his royalty. He is the prototype of handcuffed people, alone, at the mercy of soldiers and thugs who take out the rage and cruelty they stored up during their lives on the unfortunate poor. He was tortured!
Ecce homo! - Here is the man!, exclaims Pilate in presenting him shortly afterwards to the people (Jn 19:5). These are words which, after Christ, can be said of the endless host of men and women who are vilified, reduced to being objects, deprived of all human dignity. The author Primo Levi titled the account of his life in the extermination camp in Auschwitz If This Is a Man. On the cross, Jesus of Nazareth becomes the symbol of this part of humanity that is humiliated and insulted. One would want to exclaim, You who are rejected, spurned, pariahs of the whole earth: the greatest man in history was one of you! Whatever nation, race, or religion you belong to, you have the right to claim him as yours.
The African-American writer and theologian Howard Thurman—the man Martin Luther King considered his teacher and his inspiration for the non-violent struggle for human rights—wrote a book called Jesus and the Disinherited (cf Howard Thurman, Jesus and the Disinherited,1949; repr., Boston: Beacon Press, 1996). In it he shows what the figure of Jesus represented for the slaves in the south, of whom he himself was a direct descendant. When the slaves were deprived of every right and completely abject, the words of the Gospel that the minister would repeat in their segregated worship — the only meeting they were allowed to have— would give the slaves back a sense of their dignity as children of God.
The majority of Negro Spirituals that still move the world today arose in this context (cf Howard Thurman, Deep River, and The Negro Spiritual Speaks of Life and Death, Richmond, IN: Friends United Press, 1975). At the time of public auction, slaves experienced the anguish of seeing wives separated from their husbands and children from their parents, being sold at times to different masters. It is easy to imagine the spirit with which they sang out in the sun or inside their huts, Nobody knows the trouble I have seen. Nobody knows, but Jesus.
This is not the only meaning of the passion and death of Christ, and it is not even the most important. The most profound meaning is not social but spiritual and mystical. That death redeemed the world from sin; it brought the love of God to the farthest and darkest place in which humanity has been trapped in its flight from him, that is, death. This is not, as I said, the most important meaning of the cross, but it is the one that all people, believers, and non-believers, can recognize and receive.
I repeat, everyone, and not just believers. Through the event of the Incarnation of the Son of God, he made himself man and united himself to all of humanity, but through the manner of his Incarnation, he made himself one of the poor and rejected and embraced their cause. He took it upon himself to ensure that when he solemnly affirmed that whatever we did for the hungry, the naked, the incarcerated, the outcast, we did to him, and whatever we omitted doing for them, we omitted doing to him (cf Mt 25:31- 46).
But we cannot stop here. If Jesus had only this to say to the disinherited of the world, he would only be one more among them, an example of dignity in the face of misfortune and nothing more. Then it would be further proof against the God who allowed all of this. We know the indignant reaction of Ivan, the rebellious brother in The Brothers Karamazov by Dostoevsky, when Aloysha, the younger brother, mentions Jesus to him: Ah, yes, the ‘only sinless One’ and his blood! No, I have not forgotten about him; on the contrary, I’ve been wondering all the while why you hadn’t brought him up for so long, because in discussions your people usually trot him out first thing (Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov, trans. Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2002, p. 246).
The Gospel does not, in fact, stop here. It says something else: it says that the Crucified One is risen! In him a total reversal of roles has taken place: the vanquished has become the victor; the one judged has become the judge, the stone which was rejected by the builders has become the cornerstone (cf Acts 4:11). The final word is not and never will be injustice and oppression. Jesus not only restored dignity to the disinherited of the world, he also gave them hope!
In the first three centuries of the Church, the celebration of Easter was not spread out over several days the way it is now: Good Friday, Holy Saturday, and Easter Sunday. Everything was concentrated in one day. Both the death and resurrection were commemorated at the Easter Vigil. To be more precise, neither the death nor the resurrection was commemorated as distinct and separate events; instead what was commemorated was the passage of Christ from one to the other, from death to life. The word pascha (pesach) means passage: the passage of the Jewish people from slavery to freedom, the passage of Christ from this world to the Father (cf Jn 13:1), and the passage from sin to grace for those who believe in him.
It is the feast of the reversal directed by God and accomplished in Christ; it is the beginning and the promise of the unique turnaround that is completely just and irreversible concerning humanity’s fate. We can say to the poor, the outcasts, those who are trapped in different forms of slavery still occurring in our society: Easter is your feast!
The cross also contains a message for those who are on the opposite side of this equation: the powerful, the strong, those who are comfortable in their role as victors. And it is a message, as always, of love and salvation, not of hate or vengeance. It reminds them that in the end they are bound to the same fate as everyone else: whether weak or strong, defenceless or tyrannical, all are subjected to the same laws and to the same human limitations. Death, like the sword of Damocles, hangs over everyone’s head by a thread. It warns against the worst evil for a human being, the illusion of omnipotence. We do not need to go back too far in time; it is enough to remember recent history to be aware of how frequent this danger is and how it leads individuals and nations to catastrophe.
Scripture has words of eternal wisdom for those who dominate the world’s stage:
Learn, O judges of the ends of the earth. Mighty men will be mightily tested. (Wis 6:1, 6)
Man cannot abide in his pomp, he is like the beasts that perish. (Ps 49:20)
For what does it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses or forfeits himself? (Lk 9:25)
The Church has received the mandate from its founder to stand with the poor and the weak, to be the voice for those who have no voice, and, thanks be to God, that is what she does, especially in her Chief Shepherd.
The second historical task that religions need to take on together today, besides promoting peace, is not to remain silent in the face of the situation that is there for everyone to see. A few privileged people possess more goods than they could ever consume, while for entire centuries countless masses of poor people have lived without having a piece of bread or a sip of water to give their children. No religion can remain indifferent to this because the God of all the religions is not indifferent to all of this.
Let us return to the prophecy of Isaiah that we started with. It begins with a description of the humiliation of the Servant of God, but it concludes with a description of his final exaltation. God is the one speaking:
He shall see the fruit of the travail of his soul and be satisfied. Therefore I will divide him a portion with the great, and he shall divide the spoil with the strong; because he poured out his soul to death, and was numbered with the transgressors; yet he bore the sin of many, and made intercession for the transgressors (Is 53:11-12).
In two days, with the announcement of Jesus’ resurrection, the liturgy will give a name and a face to this victor. Let us keep watch and meditate in expectation.
The Mass of the Lord's Supper was celebrated tonight in French, therefore the text of the homily I shared is listed first in French ... and the English translation follows.
Un example qu’il nous donne
Ce soir, nous sommes rassemblés afin de revivre le premier moment du Triduum Pascal. Afin de mieux connaître et apprécier la signification de ce moment dans la vie de Jésus et de ses disciples, il faut relire le récit qui nous est fourni dans la première lecture que nous avons entendu ce soir. Il s’agit d’un repas qui est partagé en famille et entre des voisins (cf Ex 12:4) mais ce n’est pas un repas comme tout autre repas normale. Ce repas doit être mangé rapidement: la ceinture aux reins, les sandales aux pieds, le baton à la main (Ex 12:11). Il peut sembler étrange que ce repas soit mangé aussi rapidement, mais il y avait un sens profond à cette soirée et au repas partagé.
C'était ce repas de la Pâque que Jésus partageait avec ses disciples la nuit précédant sa mort, mais ce soir-là Jésus a posé deux gestes qui ont étonné ses disciples: la fraction du pain et le lavement des pieds. Les détailles sont racontés dans le récit évangélique (Jn 13:1-15) ainsi que dans la lettre de Saint Paul aux Corinthiens (1 Cor 11:23-26).
Deux mille ans plus tard, la fraction du pain appartient à la vie ordinaire de l’Église et habite sa mémoire comme un trésor des plus précieux. Il en est autrement du lavement des pieds. Ce geste, étrange et souvent ebarrassant, n’est effectué que le jeudi saint, et encore ... ce n’est pas toujours le cas. Pourtant, ces deux gestes – la fraction du pain et le lavement des pieds – sont inséparables de par leur origine et leur portée: tous deux proviennent du même amour qui bat dans le coeur de Jésus et qui s’offre au monde. Comme pour l’eucharistie, le Christ enjoint à ses disciples de faire comme lui: Vous aussi, vous devez vous laver les pieds les uns aux autres (Jn 13:15), dit-il.
On peut imaginer la tête des disciples lorsque Jésus s’agenouille devant eux. Ce geste, qui manifeste la folie de Dieu, prend l’exacte contre-pied de leurs rêves de grandeur. Le Christ se fait serviteur parce qu’il ne sait qu’aimer. Le peuple de Dieu – c’est à dire nous - ne pouvons nous porter mieux dans la tête et dans le coeur qu’en renonçant aux tentations du pouvoir et en se mettant au service de l’Évangile et du monde.
La liturgie du Jeudi Saint que nous sommes en train de vivre nous rappele cette vérité. À nous de la mettre en pratique.
(Inspiré par Rodhain Kasuba)
An example worth following
Tonight we are gathered to relive the first moment of the Pascal Triduum. In order to better understand and appreciate the significance of this moment in the life of Jesus and his disciples, we must re-read the narrative provided to us in the first reading we heard tonight. This is a meal that is shared with family and neighbours (cf Ex 12:4) but it is not a meal like any other normal meal. This meal must be eaten quickly: your loins girded, your sandals on your feet and your staff in your hand (Ex 12:11). It may seem strange that this meal is eaten so quickly, but there was a deep meaning to this evening and in the shared meal.
It was this Passover meal that Jesus shared with his disciples the night before his death, but that night Jesus did two things that astonished his disciples: the breaking of the bread and the washing of the feet. The details are recounted in the Gospel story (John 13:1-15) and in the letter of Saint Paul to the Corinthians (1 Cor 11:23-26).
Two thousand years later, the breaking of bread is part of the ordinary life of the Church; it lives in her memory like a most precious treasure. Not so with the washing of feet. This gesture, strange and often annoying, is only done on Holy Thursday, and even so ... this is not always the case. However, these two acts - the breaking of the bread and the washing of the feet - are inseparable because of their origin and their meaning: both are born out of the same love that beats in the heart of Jesus, love that is offered to the world. As for the Eucharist, Christ commands his disciples to do as he did: You too must wash one another's feet (John 13:15), he says.
We can imagine the disciples' heads when Jesus knelt before them. This gesture, which manifests the folly of God, was the exact opposite of their dreams of greatness. Christ becomes a servant because he knows only how to love. The people of God - that is, we - can not hope to do better in our heads and in our hearts than to renounce the temptations of power and instead to serve the Gospel and one another.
The Holy Thursday liturgy we are experiencing reminds us of this truth. It's up to us to put it into practice.
At 3:30pm this afternoon local time (9:30am EDT), the Holy Father, Pope Francis left the Domus Sanctae Marthae and paid a visit to the Velletri Prison in Rome where he celebrated the Mass of the Lord's Supper.
Upon his arrival, at approximately 4:30pm, the Pope was welcomed by the Director of the penitential centre, Doctor Maria Donata Iannantuono; as well as the Associate Director, Doctor Pia Palmeri; the Commander of the Prison Police, Doctor Maria Luisa Abossida; and the Chaplain, Father Franco Diamante.
The Holy Father then greeted some representatives of the civil personnel, the Police and the prisoners. Then, at 4:45pm, in the prison theatre, His Holiness presided over the celebration of the Mass of the Lord's Supper with the rite of the washing of feet, thereby beginning the Easter Triduum.
Following the proclamation of the gospel, the Pope shared an unscripted homily. Then, following the prescribed ritual, he washed the feet of 12 of the prisoners who are from four different countries: 9 of them are Italians, 1 is from Brazil, 1 from the Ivory Coast and 1 from Marocco.
At the conclusion of the celebration, after some words of greeting offered by the Director of the Prison, and following the exchange of some gifts, the Holy Father returned to the Vatican.
Unscripted Homily of the Holy Father, Pope Francis
during the Mass of the Lord's Supper
I greet you all and I thank you for your welcome.
I received a beautiful letter, a few days ago, from some of you who could not be with us today, but who told me some beautiful things and I thank you for what you wrote.
In our prayer, we are very united to all of you: those who are here and those who could not.
We have heard what Jesus did. It is interesting. The Gospel says: Jesus, knowing that the Father had given everything into his hands, that is, Jesus had all the power, everything. And then, he begans to make this gesture of washing their feet. It was a gesture that slaves did at that time, because there was no asphalt in the streets and people, when they arrived, had dust on their feet; when they came to a house for a visit or lunch, there were slaves who washed their feet. And Jesus makes this gesture: he washes their feet. He poses a slave gesture: He, who had all the power, He, who was the Lord, performed the slave gesture. And then he advised everyone: Do this gesture even among yourselves. In other words, serve one another, be brothers in service, not in ambition, as those who dominate each other or those who trample over others; instead, be brothers in service. Do you need something, a service? I will do it for you. This is fraternity. Fraternity is humble, always: it is at the service of others. And I will make this gesture - the Church wants the Bishop to do it every year, once a year, at least on Holy Thursday - to imitate the gesture of Jesus and also to do well with the example even toward himself, because the Bishop is not the most important person, but he must be the most ready to be a servant. And each of us must be the servant of others.
This is Jesus' rule and the rule of the Gospel: the rule of service, not of dominating, of doing evil, of humiliating others. Service! Once, when the apostles quarrelled among themselves, they discussed who is most important among us, Jesus took a child and said, The child. If your heart is not a child's heart, you will not be my disciples. The heart of a child, simple, humble but the heart of a servant. And there, he adds an interesting thing that we can connect with this gesture today. He says: Be careful: the leaders of the nations dominate, but among you it must not be so. The older one must serve the smaller one. Whoever feels the greatest must be a servant. All of us must also be servants. It is true that in life there are problems: we quarrel among ourselves ... but this must be something that passes, a passing thing, because in our hearts there must always be this love of serving the other, of being at the service of the other.
And this gesture that today I will enact for all of us a gesture that will help us to be more servants of each other, more friends, more brothers in service. With these feelings, we continue the celebration with the washing of the feet.
At 9:20am this morning local time (3:20am EDT), inside the Vatican Basilica, the Holy Father, Pope Francis presided over the celebration of the Chrism Mass, the liturgy which is celebrated on this day in all Cathedrals throughout the world.
The Mass of Chrism was concelebrated by the Holy Father along with Cardinals, Bishops and Priests (diocesan and religious) who are present in Rome.
During the Eucharistic celebration, the priests who were present renewed the promises they made on the day of their Ordination, then the oils used for the celebration of Sacraments (the Oil of the Infirmed, the Oil of Catechumens and the Sacred Chrism) were blessed.
Homily of the Holy Father, Pope Francis
during the celebration of the Chrism Mass
The Gospel of Luke, which we just heard, makes us relive the excitement of that moment when the Lord made his own the prophecy of Isaiah, as he read it solemnly in the midst of his people. The synagogue in Nazareth was filled with his relatives, neighbours, acquaintances, friends … and not only them. All had their eyes fixed on him. The Church always has her eyes fixed on Jesus Christ, the Anointed One, whom the Spirit sends to anoint God’s people.
The Gospels frequently present us with this image of the Lord in the midst of a crowd, surrounded and pressed by people who approach him with their sick ones, who ask him to cast out evil spirits, who hear his teachings and accompany him on the way. My sheep hear my voice. I know them and they follow me (Jn 10:27-28).
The Lord never lost that direct contact with people. Amid those crowds, he always kept the grace of closeness with the people as a whole, and with each individual. We see this throughout his public life, and so it was from the beginning: the radiance of the Child gently attracted shepherds, kings and elderly dreamers like Simeon and Anna. So it was on the cross: his Heart draws all people to himself (Jn 12:32): Veronicas, Cyreneans, thieves, centurions…
The term crowd is not disparaging. Perhaps to some people’s ears, it can evoke a faceless, nameless throng … But in the Gospel we see that when the crowd interacts with the Lord – who stands in their midst like a shepherd among his flock – something happens. Deep within, people feel the desire to follow Jesus, amazement wells up, discernment grows apace.
I would like to reflect with you on these three graces that characterize the relationship between Jesus and the crowd.
The grace of following
Saint Luke says that the crowds looked for Jesus (Lk 4:42) and travelled with him (Lk 14:25). They pressed in on him and surrounded him (Lk 8:42-45); they gathered to hear him (Lk 5:15). Their following is something completely unexpected, unconditional and full of affection. It contrasts with the small-mindedness of the disciples, whose attitude towards people verges on cruelty when they suggest to the Lord that he send them away, so that they can get something to eat. Here, I believe, was the beginning of clericalism: in this desire to be assured of a meal and personal comfort without any concern for the people. The Lord cut short that temptation: You, give them something to eat! was Jesus’ response. Take care of the people!
The grace of amazement
The second grace that the crowd receives when it follows Jesus is that of joy-filled amazement. People were amazed by Jesus (Lk 11:14), by his miracles, but above all by his very person. People loved to meet him along the way, to receive his blessing and to bless him, like the woman in the midst of the crowd who blessed his Mother. The Lord himself was amazed by people’s faith; he rejoiced and he lost no opportunity to speak about it.
The grace of discernment
The third grace that people receive is that of discernment. The crowds found out where Jesus had gone, and followed him (Lk 9:11). They were astounded by his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority (Mt 7:28-29; cf Lk 5:26). Christ, the Word of God who came in the flesh, awakens in people this charism of discernment, which is certainly not the discernment of those who specialize in disputed questions. When the Pharisees and the teachers of the law debated with him, what people discerned was Jesus’ authority, the power of his teaching to touch their hearts, and the fact that evil spirits obeyed him (leaving momentarily speechless those who tried to trap him by their questions; the people liked that; they were able to distinguish this and they liked it).
Let us take a closer look at the way the Gospel views the crowd. Luke points out four large groups who are the preferred beneficiaries of the Lord’s anointing: the poor, the blind, the oppressed and captives. He speaks of them in general terms, but then we are glad to see that, in the course of the Lord’s life, these anointed ones gradually take on real names and faces. When oil is applied to one part of the body, its beneficial effect is felt throughout the entire body. So too, the Lord, taking up the prophecy of Isaiah, names various crowds to whom the Spirit sends him, according to what we may call an inclusive preferentiality: the grace and the charism given to one individual person or a particular group then redounds, like every action of the Spirit, to the good of all.
The poor (in Greek, ptochoi) are those who are bent over, like beggars who bow down and ask for alms. But poor too (ptochè) was that widow who anointed with her fingers the two small coins which were all she had to live on that day. The anointing by the widow to give alms went unnoticed by the eyes of all except Jesus, who looks kindly on her lowliness. Through her, the Lord can accomplish fully his mission of proclaiming the Gospel to the poor. Paradoxically, the disciples heard the good news that people like her exist. She – the generous woman – could not imagine that she would make it to the Gospel, that her simple gesture would be recorded in the Gospel. Like all those men and women who are the saints next door, she lives interiorly the joyful fact that her actions carry weight in the Kingdom, and are worth more than all the riches of the world.
The blind are represented by one of the most likable figures in the Gospel: Bartimaeus (cf Mt 10:46-52), the blind beggar who regained his sight and, from that moment on, only had eyes to follow Jesus on his journey. The anointing of the gaze! Our gaze, to which the eyes of Jesus can restore the brightness which only gratuitous love can give, the brightness daily stolen from us by the manipulative and banal images with which the world overwhelms us.
To refer to the oppressed (in Greek, tethrausmenoi), Luke uses a word that contains the idea of trauma. It is enough to evoke the parable – perhaps Luke’s favourite – of the Good Samaritan, who anoints with oil and binds the wounds (traumata: Lk 10:34) of the man who had been beaten by robbers and left lying at the side of the road. The anointing of the wounded flesh of Christ! In that anointing we find the remedy for all those traumas that leave individuals, families and entire peoples ignored, excluded and unwanted, on the sidelines of history.
The captives are prisoners of war (in Greek, aichmalotoi), those who had been led at the point of a spear (aichmé). Jesus would use the same word in speaking of the taking of Jerusalem, his beloved city, and the deportation of its people (Lk 21:24). Our cities today are taken prisoner not so much at spear point, but by more subtle means of ideological colonization.
Only the anointing of culture, built up by the labour and the art of our forebears, can free our cities from these new forms of slavery.
As for us, dear brother priests, we must not forget that our evangelical models are those people, the crowd with its real faces, which the anointing of the Lord raises up and revives. They are the ones who complete and make real the anointing of the Spirit in ourselves; they are the ones whom we have been anointed to anoint. We have been taken from their midst, and we can fearlessly identify with these ordinary people. Each of us has our own story. A little bit of memory will do us much good. They are an image of our soul and an image of the Church. Each of them incarnates the one heart of our people.
We priests are the poor man and we would like to have the heart of the poor widow whenever we give alms, touching the hand of the beggar and looking him or her in the eye. We priests are Bartimaeus, and each morning we get up and pray: Lord, that I may see. We priests are, in some point of our sinfulness, the man beaten by the robbers. And we want first to be in the compassionate hands of the good Samaritan, in order then to be able to show compassion to others with our own hands.
I confess to you that whenever I confirm and ordain, I like to smear with chrism the foreheads and the hands of those I anoint. In that generous anointing, we can sense that our own anointing is being renewed. I would say this: We are not distributors of bottled oil. We have been anointed to anoint. We anoint by distributing ourselves, distributing our vocation and our heart. When we anoint others, we ourselves are anointed anew by the faith and the affection of our people. We anoint by dirtying our hands in touching the wounds, the sins and the worries of the people. We anoint by perfuming our hands in touching their faith, their hopes, their fidelity and the unconditional generosity of their self-giving, which many significant figures describe as superstition.
The one who learns how to anoint and to bless is thus healed of meanness, abuse and cruelty.
Let us pray, dear brothers; being with Jesus in the midst of our people is the most beautiful place to be. May the Father renew deep within us the Spirit of holiness; may he grant that we be one in imploring his mercy for the people entrusted to our care and for all the world. In this way, the multitude of the peoples, gathered in Christ, may become the one faithful people of God, which will attain its fullness in the Kingdom (cf Prayer of Priestly Ordination).
