Homily of Pope Francis at the closing Mass of his visit to Belgium

Below we show the complete homily of Pope Francis at the Mass on September 29 at the King Baudouin Stadium in Belgium, in which more than 35,000 faithful participated:

“If anyone were to scandalize one of these little ones who have faith, it would be better for him if a grindstone were tied around his neck and he was thrown into the sea” (Mc 9.42). With these words, addressed to the disciples, Jesus warns against the danger of scandalizing, that is, of hindering the path of the “little ones.” It is a strong, severe admonition, on which we must stop to reflect. I would like to do it with you, in the light of other sacred texts, through three key words: openness, communion and testimony.

We start with opening. The first Reading and the Gospel have told us about it, showing us the free action of the Holy Spirit who, in the narrative of the Exodus, fills with his gift of prophecy not only the elders who had gone with Moses to the tent of meeting, but also to two men who had remained in the camp.

This makes us think why, if at first their absence in the group of the chosen was scandalous, after the gift of the Spirit it was scandalous to prohibit them from exercising the mission that, despite this, they had received. Moses, a humble and wise man, understands this well, who with an open mind and heart says: “If only all of the Lord’s people were prophets, because he instills his spirit in them!” (Nm 11,29). Beautiful sponsorship.

They are wise words, which prelude what Jesus affirms in the Gospel (cf. Mc 9,38-43.45.47- 48). Here the scene takes place in Capernaum, and the disciples in turn would like to prevent a man from expelling demons in the name of the Master, because — they affirm — “he is not one of us” (Mc 9,38). They think like this: “He who does not follow us, who is not ‘one of us’, cannot perform miracles, he does not have the right.” But Jesus surprises them—as always—and rebukes them, Jesus always surprises us, inviting them to go beyond their schemes, not to be “scandalized” by the freedom of God. He tells them: “Do not prevent them (…), he who is not against us is with us” (Mc 9,39-40).

Let us observe these two scenes carefully, that of Moses and that of Jesus, because they also concern us and our Christian life. All of us, in fact, with baptism, have received a mission in the Church. But it is a gift, not a source of pride. The community of believers is not a circle of the privileged, it is a family of the saved, and we are not sent to bring the Gospel to the world by our merits, but by the grace of God, by his mercy and by the trust that, more Beyond all our limits and sins, He continues to put in us with Father’s love, seeing in us what we ourselves cannot glimpse. This is why he calls us, sends us and accompanies us patiently every day.

And so, if we want to cooperate, with open and eager love, to the free action of the Spirit without being a cause of scandal, an obstacle to anyone with our presumption and rigidity, we need to carry out our mission with humility, gratitude and joy. We should not resent, but rather rejoice that others can also do what we do, so that the Kingdom of God may grow and so that we may all be united, one day, in the arms of the Father.

And this brings us to the second word: communion. James speaks to us about this in the second Reading (cf. James 5:1-6) with two strong images: the riches that corrupt (cf. v. 3) and the protests of the harvesters that reach the ears of the Lord (cf. . v. 4). It reminds us, thus, that the only path of life is that of gift, of love that unites in sharing. The path of selfishness generates only closure, walls and obstacles—“scandals,” precisely—chaining us to things and distancing us from God and our brothers.

Selfishness, like everything that prevents charity, is “scandalous” because it crushes the little ones, humiliating the dignity of people and suffocating the cry of the poor (cf. Ps 9:13). And this was as true in Saint Paul’s time as it is for us today. When only the principles of interest and the logic of the market are placed at the basis of the life of individuals and communities (cf. Exhort. Evangelii Gaudium, 54-58), a world is created in which there is no longer There is no room for those who are in difficulty, nor is there mercy for those who make mistakes, nor compassion for those who suffer and are not capable.

Let us think, for example, when children are scandalized, beaten, abused, those who should care for them, those wounded by pain, helplessness, especially the victims, but also their families and their community. With my mind, and with my heart, I return to the story of some of these little ones that I found the other day. I have heard, I have heard, the suffering of the abused. And I repeat it here, in the Church there is room for everyone, everyone, but everyone will be judged and there is no place for abuse, there is no place to cover up abuse.

I ask everyone: do not cover up the abuses. I ask the bishops: do not cover up the abuses. Condemn abusers and help them recover from this disease of abuse. Evil cannot be hidden. Evil must come to light, let it be known. As some abused people have bravely done. Let it be known. Let the accuser be judged, whether layman, priesthood or bishop. Let him be judged.

The Word of God is clear, it tells us that the “protests of the harvesters” and the “cry of the poor” cannot be ignored, they cannot be canceled, as if they were an out of tune note in a perfect concert of the world of well-being, nor can they be mitigated with some form of façade welfare. On the contrary, they are the living voice of the Spirit, they remind us of who we are—we are all poor sinners, everyone, everyone, and first of all me. Abused people are a lament that rises to heaven, that touches the soul, that makes us ashamed and calls us to convert.

Let us not hinder the prophetic voice, silencing it with our indifference. Let us listen to what Jesus tells us in the Gospel: far from us is the scandalous eye, which sees the poor and turns the other way. Far from us is the scandalous hand, which clenches its fist to hide its treasures and greedily hides in its pockets. My grandmother said that “the devil enters through the pockets.” That hand that hits to commit sexual abuse, an abuse of power, an abuse of conscience, against those who are weaker. And how many cases of abuse we have in our history and in our society.

Far from us is the scandalous foot, which runs fast not to get close to those who suffer, but to “pass by” and remain at a distance. Out with all this; far from us! Nothing good or solid is built that way.

And a question that I like to ask people: Do you give alms? “yes Father, yes.” And tell me, when you give alms, do you touch the hand of the indigent person? Or do you throw it away and look away? Do you look into the eyes of people who suffer? Let’s think about this.

If we want to sow for the future, also in the social and economic sphere, it will do us good to once again put the Gospel of mercy as the foundation of our decisions. Jesus is Mercy and all of us, all of us, have been “merciful.”

Otherwise, no matter how imposing they appear, the monuments of our opulence will always be colossi with feet of clay (cf. Dan 2:31-45). Let’s not fool ourselves, without love nothing lasts, everything fades, collapses, and leaves us prisoners of an evasive, empty and meaningless life, of an inconsistent world that, beyond the facades, has lost all credibility, because it has scandalized to the little ones.

And so we come to the third word: testimony. In this prosperous land the testimony of the Carmelite nun Ana de Jesús was also able to flourish. This woman was among the protagonists, in the Church of her time, of a great reform movement, in the footsteps of a “giant of the spirit”—Teresa of Ávila—who spread the ideals in Spain, France and also here. , in Brussels, and in those that were then called the Spanish Netherlands.

In a time marked by painful scandals, inside and outside the Christian community, she and her companions, with their simple and poor life, made of prayer, work and charity, knew how to bring so many people back to faith, even the point that some defined its foundation in this city as a “spiritual magnet.”

By choice, he has left no writings. Rather, she committed herself to putting into practice what she in turn had learned (cf. 1 Cor 15:3), and with her way of life she contributed to enhancing the Church in a time of great difficulty.

Let us therefore accept with gratitude the model of “feminine holiness” that he has left us (cf. Exhort. Gaudete et exsultate, 12), at the same time delicate and strong, made of openness, communion and testimony. Let us entrust ourselves to her prayer, let us imitate the virtues and rediscover with her our commitment to walk together on the standards of the Lord.