World Day of the Poor 2024: Homily of Pope Francis at the Mass celebrated in St. Peter’s Basilica

This November 17, Pope Francis celebrated Mass in St. Peter’s Basilica for the VIII World Day of the Poor, an initiative that began in 2016 with his apostolic letter. Mercy and misery.

Below is the full homily of Pope Francis:

The words we have just heard could raise feelings of anguish in us; In reality, they are a great announcement of hope. In fact, if Jesus on the one hand seems to describe the state of mind of someone who has seen the destruction of Jerusalem and thinks that the end has come, at the same time He announces something extraordinary: in the hour of darkness and desolation, right in the moment when everything seems to collapse, God comes, God becomes close, God brings us together to save us.

Jesus invites us to have a sharper look, to have eyes capable of “reading from within” the events of history, to discover that, even in the anguish of our hearts and our time, there is an unwavering hope that shines. Therefore, on this World Day of the Poor, let us dwell precisely on these two realities: anguish and hope. Realities that are always fighting within our hearts.

First the anguish. It is a widespread feeling in our time, where social communication amplifies problems and wounds, making the world more insecure and the future more uncertain. Likewise, today’s Gospel opens with a scenario that projects the people’s tribulation into the cosmos, and does so using apocalyptic language: “The sun will darken, the moon will stop shining, the stars will fall from the sky and the stars will fade.” They will be moved” (Mk 13:24-25).

If our gaze is limited only to the narration of the facts, anguish will prevail in us. In fact, today we also see the sun darken and the moon go out, we see the hunger and famine that oppress many brothers and sisters who have nothing to eat, we see the horrors of war, we see the innocent deaths. Faced with this reality, we run the risk of sinking into discouragement and letting the presence of God go unnoticed within the drama of history. In this way, we condemn ourselves to impotence; We see how the injustice that causes the pain of the poor grows around us, however, we allow ourselves to be carried away by the inertia of those who, out of comfort or laziness, think that “the world is like that” and “there is nothing that I can do.” Thus, even the Christian faith is reduced to a passive devotion, which does not bother the powers of this world and does not produce any concrete commitment to charity. And while part of the world is condemned to live in the marginal sectors of history, while inequalities grow and the economy punishes the weakest, while society devotes itself to the idolatry of money, it happens that the poor and Excluded people cannot do anything other than continue waiting (cf. Ex ap. Evangelii Gaudium, 54).

But Jesus, in the midst of that apocalyptic picture, ignites hope. It completely opens our horizon, lengthening our gaze so that we learn to welcome, even in the precariousness and pain of the world, the presence of the love of God that becomes close, that does not abandon us, that acts for our salvation. Precisely when the sun darkens and the moon stops shining and the stars fall from the sky, the Gospel says, “the Son of Man will be seen coming on the clouds, full of power and glory. And he will send the angels to gather his chosen ones from the four cardinal points, from one end of the horizon to the other” (vv. 26-27).

With these words, Jesus is primarily indicating his death that will occur soon. On Calvary, in fact, the sun will be darkened and darkness will descend into the world; But precisely at that moment the Son of Man will come on the clouds, because the power of his resurrection will break the chains of death, the eternal life of God will emerge from the darkness of the grave and a new world will be born from the rubble of a wounded history. for evil

Brothers and sisters, this is the hope that Jesus wants to give us. And he does it even through a beautiful image: look at the fig tree, he says, because “when its branches become flexible and leaves sprout, you realize that summer is approaching” (v. 28). In the same way, we are also called to read the situations of our earthly life: where there seems to be only injustice, pain and poverty, precisely in that dramatic moment, the Lord approaches to free us from slavery and make life shine ( cf. v. 29). And it becomes close with our Christian proximity, with our Christian brotherhood. It is not about throwing a coin into the hands of a needy person. I ask two things to someone who gives alms: Do you touch people’s hands or do you throw the coin at them without touching them? Do you look in the eyes of the person you help or do you look away?

It is we, his disciples, who, thanks to the Holy Spirit, can sow this hope in the world. It is we who can and must light the lights of justice and solidarity while the shadows of a closed world expand (cf. Enc. Fratelli tutti, 9-55). It is to us that his grace makes us shine, it is our life impregnated with compassion and charity that becomes a sign of the presence of the Lord, always close to the suffering of the poor, to heal their wounds and change their fate.

Brothers and sisters, let us not forget, the Christian hope that has reached its fullness in Jesus and is realized in his Kingdom, needs our commitment, needs a faith that operates in charity, needs Christians who do not act ignorant. . I saw a photograph by a Roman photographer: it portrayed an adult couple, almost elderly, leaving a restaurant in winter. The lady was well covered in a fur coat and so was the man. At the door was a poor lady, sitting on the floor, asking for alms, and they were both looking the other way. This happens every day. Let’s ask ourselves: do I turn a blind eye when I see the poverty, the need, the pain of others? A twentieth-century theologian said that the Christian faith must awaken in us an “open-eyed mystique”: not a spirituality that flees from the world, but, on the contrary, a faith that opens our eyes to the suffering of the world and to the unhappiness of the poor, to exercise the same compassion of Christ. Do I have the same compassion as the Lord towards the poor, towards those who have no work, have nothing to eat, are marginalized by society? And we must not only focus on the great problems of global poverty, but on the little that we can all do in our daily lives: with our lifestyle, with attention and care for the environment in which we live, with the constant search for justice, sharing our goods with the poorest, committing ourselves socially and politically to improve the reality that surrounds us. It may seem like little to us, but our little will be like the first leaves that sprout from the fig tree, an anticipation of the approaching summer.

Dear brothers, on this World Day of the Poor I would like to remember a warning from Cardinal Martini. He said that we must be careful not to think that first there is the Church, already consolidated in itself, and then the poor we choose to care for. In reality, we become the Church of Jesus to the extent to which we serve the poor, because only in this way “the Church ‘becomes’ itself, that is, the Church becomes an open house for all, a place of God’s compassion. for the life of every man” (cf. CM Martini, Città senza mura. Lettere e discorsi alla diocesi 1984, Bologna 1985, 350).

And I say it to the Church, I say it to the Governments, I say it to the international Organizations, I say it to each one and everyone: please, let us not forget the poor.