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Welcome in Barcelona at Josep Tarradellas Barcelona-El Prat International Airport

Midday Prayer in the Cathedral of the Holy Cross and Saint Eulalia

 

Welcome in Barcelona at Josep Tarradellas Barcelona-El Prat International Airport

Upon arrival, at 12.45, at Josep Tarradellas Barcelona-El Prat International Airport, the Holy Father Leo XIV was welcomed by some representatives of the Generalitat de Catalunya . After a short private meeting in the VIP lounge, the Pope blessed the tabernacle in the airport chapel.

Pope Leo XIV then transferred by car to Barcelona Cathedral for the Midday Prayer.

 

Midday Prayer in the Cathedral of the Holy Cross and Saint Eulalia

On arrival at the Cathedral of the Holy Cross and Saint Eulalia in Barcelona, the Pope was welcomed by the Metropolitan Archbishop of Barcelona, His Eminence Cardinal Juan José Omella Omella, and by the Dean, who presented him with the cross and holy water for aspersion.

The Holy Father entered the right-hand chapel for a moment of recollection before the Blessed Sacrament and then walked down the central aisle, whilst the choir sang a hymn.

Following the words of welcome from the Cardinal Archbishop of Barcelona and the Midday Prayer, the Holy Father delivered his homily.

At the end, the Pope proceeded to the crypt for a moment of recollection and prayer beside the tomb of Saint Eulalia. After a photograph with a group of seminarians, he left the Cathedral via the central nave. He then entered the Cathedral cloister through the entrance of Saint Lucy’s Chapel to visit the fountain and greet the Chapter and some civil leaders.

Subsequently, via the Saint Eulalia door, he entered the Archbishop’s residence, where he dined and met privately with the President of the Generalitat de Catalunya , Salvador Illa i Roca, and the members of the Augustinian Order.

The following is the homily delivered by Pope Leo XIV at the end of the Midday Prayer in the Cathedral of the Holy Cross and Saint Eulalia:

 

Homily of the Holy Father

Dear brothers and sisters,

With great joy I begin my visit by praying Midday Prayer together with you in this Cathedral.

The Second Vatican Council  defines the Divine Office as “the voice of the bride herself addressed to her bridegroom” ( Sacrosanctum Concilium , 84) and “the prayer which Christ himself together with his body addresses to the Father” ( ibid. ). The reading we have just heard also emphasizes that “in the one Spirit we were all baptized into one body” ( 1 Cor  12:13). We can therefore allow ourselves to be guided in our reflection precisely by these two images: the bride and the body.

The first reminds us that the Church — and in particular this assembly, rich in gifts and charisms and in the diversity of each person’s story — is above all a beloved bride. God has willed you to be here, because in you and in your being together he loves a unique and sacred beauty and goodness. He has chosen you to represent today the “communion of saints” (cf.  1 Cor  1:2) that is in Barcelona. It is with this awareness that I invite you to renew, in harmony, your resolve to walk together — all of you, faithful and pastors alike — in the footsteps of Christ, toward the fullness of life. The Church is the fruit of an act of love that precedes her and comes from God. Above all, she grows by allowing herself to be loved by him, united, with a humble and grateful heart, because only those who allow themselves to be loved by God can build, together with others, the works of love.

In this regard, not many years ago  Pope Francis  recommended that this diocesan community begin “from the encounter with Christ” in order to grow “in fraternity, in the proclamation of the Good News of the Gospel” ( Video Message on the Occasion of the Inauguration of the Tower of the Virgin Mary in the Basilica of the Sagrada Familia , 8 December 2021). A year later, he repeated to the seminarians of this Archdiocese on pilgrimage in Rome: “Never cease to savor and remember this love of predilection which pours and will pour itself abundantly into your heart […]. Never extinguish that fire which will make you fearless preachers of the Gospel” ( Address to the Community of the Seminary of Barcelona , 10 December 2022).

His words point to the atmosphere we are called to foster in our communities, in our families, in our parishes, in our workplaces and places of learning, within the Curia and in every other sphere of life. It must be a family atmosphere, where we live together, mindful of our status as children of God and our common calling, showing solidarity, openness, and a capacity for mercy, sacrifice, mutual care and forgiveness.

Dear friends: Barcelona, in this regard, has a great ecclesial tradition.  Saint John Paul II  recalled this when, during his visit here, he praised the “welcoming spirit that throughout history has led the people of Barcelona and Catalonia — you — to share human and Christian citizenship with countless people” ( Angelus , Barcelona, 7 November 1982). He encouraged you to “proclaim before the Church that this city and this region are a spacious home open to Christian fraternity” (ibid.).

In his words, we see the faces of so many brothers and sisters among you who have dedicated and continue to dedicate themselves to building harmony and communion, beyond all polarization. Even today his words find fulfilment in the vitality of the numerous works of proclamation, formation and charity which all of you encourage and practice.

This brings us to the second image we wish to consider: that of the body, the subject of the reading we have just heard (cf.  1 Cor  12:12–13). If Christ is the bridegroom who loved us first, he is also the head to whom we are united as members of a single body, each at the service of the other, people from “every tribe and language and people and nation” ( Rev  5:9), all animated by the action of the same Spirit, all called to the same holiness. This, too, is important, because it reminds us that for us, working together is not a matter of “style,” but a physiological necessity, founded on the grace granted to each of us “according to the measure of Christ’s gift” ( Eph  4:7). We must respond to that gift by putting into practice the charisms we have received in respect for the ministries entrusted to us. It is the Spirit who impels us, as parts of a single living structure, not only to give ourselves unreservedly wherever Providence calls us, but to do so according to God’s designs, in obedience and trust.

Just as in a body, so too among us there are members who are stronger and others who are weaker; some are visible, performing functions that are evident to the outside world, while others are hidden, working from within — in some cases without ceasing and carrying out vital functions without anyone taking notice.

There are countless contrasts with which we could illustrate the variety and importance of the roles and missions we find among ourselves, but the message is always the same. That is, in the richness of the gifts we have received, we are strong because we are united, and we are united because we are animated by the same Spirit, the Spirit of Christ, who is the Spirit of communion for the salvation of all (cf.  Eph  4:4). Therefore, it is important for each of us not to allow anything to destroy the unity in which God has established us and toward whose fullness he leads us day by day.

Barcelona is called “ Cap i Casal de Catalunya ,” which gives this community — all of you, the people of Barcelona and Catalonia — a special vocation and a responsibility to become, with God’s help, builders of unity.

Soon we will venerate the relics of Saint Eulalia, co-patroness of this Cathedral, the Archdiocese, and the city.

Speaking of the Martyrs, Saint Augustine said: “It should not seem a small matter to us, that we are members of the same person’s body as they are too, even though we cannot compare with them […] we obey the same Lord […], we pursue the same charity, and we embrace the same unity” ( Sermon   280 , 6).

Dear brothers and sisters: it is in this spirit that we too, in a world torn apart by wars and divisions, in a society that is increasingly fragmented and individualistic, wish to be “martyrs” — that is, witnesses and prophets of unity, of welcome, of harmony and of peace, even at the cost of sacrifice and renunciation. Like the virgin Eulalia and so many other martyrs, we wish to say our “yes,” ready if necessary to die to ourselves, to lose ourselves in order to find ourselves again, to renounce the superfluous in order to build upon what is essential and lasts forever (cf.  Mt  16:24–26).

This is what the crucified One teaches us; this is what the Apostle Paul and the examples of the saints invite us to do. This is what we wish to do together, in accordance with Jesus’ prayer to the Father during the Last Supper: “I in them and you in me, that they may become completely one, so that the world may know that you have sent me and that you have loved them even as you have loved me” ( Jn  17:23).

May Mary, Mother of the Church and Mother of unity, help us to be faithful to this commitment and this mission:  Santa Maria de la Mercè, pregueu per nosaltres .

Resignation of bishop of St. George’s in Grenada, Grenada

The Holy Father has accepted the resignation from the pastoral care of the diocese of St. George’s in Grenada, presented by Bishop Clyde Martin Harvey.

At 10.00 this morning, after celebrating Holy Mass in private, the Holy Father Leo XIV took leave of the staff and benefactors of the Apostolic Nunciature of Madrid, and transferred by car to IFEMA Madrid for the meeting with volunteers.

Upon arrival, after a tour among the faithful by golf-cart, he proceeded to Pavilion 3 of IFEMA with the Metropolitan Archbishop of Madrid, His Eminence Cardinal José Cobo Cano.

After the welcome hymn, the screening of a video on “The silent army”, a testimony from a volunteers, Mercedes Rodríguez Loeb, a rap performance, and a testimony from a volunteer, Nuño Adam Castrillo, the Holy Father delivered his address.

The meeting concluded, after a musical interlude, with some words of gratittude from the Cardinal Archbishop of Madrid, the exchange of gifts, the blessing and the final hymn.

At the end, the Holy Father transferred by car to Adolfo Suárez Madrid-Barajas International Airport. At 11.52, he departed on board an A320 Iberia bound for Barcelona.

The aircraft carrying the Holy Father is expected to land at Josep Tarradellas Barcelona-El Prat International Airport at 12.30.

The following is the address delivered by Pope Leo XIV to those present during the meeting:

 

Address of the Holy Father

Your Eminence, Cardinal José Dear brothers and sisters, good morning!

This is the last event of my Apostolic Journey in Madrid, but I am truly delighted that it is with you, the volunteers. Each and every one of you — and many others who couldn’t be here this morning — deserve a very special “thank you,” because you have given your time, your service, and you have done so out of love for the Lord, the Church and the Pope. My heartfelt gratitude to all of you!

I would also like to thank the two speakers who shared their testimonies with us, as well as those who made the video and participated in the musical performance.

I heard that, from the very beginning, you responded enthusiastically to the call for volunteers, and your numbers exceeded the original request within just a few days. As a result, the needs have been more than met. Some of you took time off work, while others dedicated themselves full-time for months. Each of you gave what you could, offering your heart, hands, ideas, talents and smiles. May God reward you as only he knows how!

I would like to share a simple reflection with you, which can be summarized as follows: Christians are called to bring the leaven of selflessness to the world. 

Jesus used the image of yeast in a parable about the kingdom of heaven, recorded by Matthew, the Evangelist: “The kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour until all of it was leavened” ( Mt  13:33). Your experience these past few days, like that of so many brothers and sisters who volunteer in similar circumstances — such as during  last year’s Jubilee  — is a sign of the kingdom to come because of one essential characteristic: selflessness.

Selflessness is like leaven that makes the human, ethical and spiritual dimensions of a society grow, and it is a distinctive element of the “City of God.” In a world that is constantly influenced by a logic of self-interest and profit, where the term “growth” is reduced to the economic-financial sense, it is important to think and live according to a more authentic mentality that leads to integral human development. This is the mentality we find in the Gospel, which says: “If you do good to those who do good to you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners do the same. If you lend to those from whom you hope to receive, what credit is that to you?” ( Lk  6:33-34).

Dear brothers and sisters, Jesus Christ came to bring the leaven of the kingdom of heaven into the world. He mixed it with the dough of our ailing humanity to heal it from within, with the water and blood of his sacrifice and with the fire of the Holy Spirit. After his death and resurrection, he sent his disciples, with the power of the same Spirit, to be signs and instruments of his kingdom, the kingdom of love, of justice, of peace. This is accomplished through preaching, but even more so through a way of life that conforms to the Gospel in the way we think and behave. An essential feature of this way of life is the generosity you have shown these past few days here in Madrid. Thank you! Perhaps the statistics do not reflect it, but we know that, in these days, thanks also to you, this city has grown, for it is closer to the kingdom of God. Is it our own merit? No! It is all his grace! This is the secret: the love of God, which moves the sun and the stars, also moves the hearts of those who have encountered “the Lord Jesus, for he himself said, ‘It is more blessed to give than to receive’” ( Acts  20:35).

Sisters and brothers, let us continue on this path, with humility and meekness, without any presumption, but firm in faith and generous in service! May the Virgin Mary grant you to be leaven of the kingdom always and everywhere. Thank you! And see you in Rome!

After blessing the cornerstone

Gift of the Chalice

And I would also like to leave this chalice here in Madrid as a gift for the whole family, as a sign of communion within the Church. May we never forget what we celebrate in the memorial of Christ, who has saved us.

Apostolic blessing

Thank you very much.

At the end of the meeting with members of the Spanish Parliament, the Holy Father transferred by car to the headquarters of the Spanish Episcopal Conference, where the meeting with the bishops of Spain took place.

Upon arrival, the Pope was welcomed by the president of the Spanish Episcopal Conference, Archbishop Luis Javier Argüello García, the Metropolitan Archbishop of Madrid, His Eminence Cardinal José Cobo Cano, and the secretary of the Episcopal Conference, Bishop Francisco César García Magán. As he entered, he greeted some ecclesiastical leaders and proceeded to the Plenary Assembly Hall, on the first floor.

After the words of welcome from the president of the Spanish Episcopal Conference, the Holy Father delivered his address.

Then, after the signing of the Guest Book, the exchange of gifts and the blessing, the Pontiff greeted the bishops personally in the office of the president of the Spanish Episcopal Conference.

At the end, he went down to the ground floor for the unveiling of a plaque commemorating his visit, and proceeded to the Press Office of the Conference for a photograph with lay personnel.

The Holy Father then transferred by car to the Apostolic Nunciature, where he dined with the bishops.

The following is the address delivered by Pope Leo XIV to those present at the meeting:

 

Address of the Holy Father

Dear Brothers in the Episcopate,

It is a great joy for me to be with you on the third day of my Apostolic Journey to Spain. After greeting the political representatives who welcomed me in Parliament, I would now like to take advantage of this time together to rekindle our communion, as Jesus counseled his apostles to do (cf.  Mk  6:31). I thank Bishop Luis Javier Argüello García for his kind words as President of the Conference and on behalf of all of you. I hope that my own words will contribute to that dialogue in the Spirit, which involves welcoming all the good that the Lord speaks to us through our brothers and sisters. The synodal journey undertaken by the Church is a process of attentive listening. Being able to recognize the voice of God speaking through the ecclesial community is one of its fundamental values.

Yours is a fruitful dialogue which, as a Church, you are formulating in various ways. One concrete example is the conferences that you hold. I would like to focus on those that took place in 2020 and 2025, which have had a significant impact: “People of God Going Forth” and “For Whom Am I? Assembly of Those Called to Mission.” The themes address essential questions: How can we face today’s challenges? And who is called to take up this challenge?

In my contribution to this reflection, I would like to propose the image of a journey whose destination is God, toward whom we lift our gaze. It is a  sui generis  journey, since we do not move physically, but we wish to let our hearts soar.

One temptation that can arise when traveling is that of fixating on what we leave behind — places, things, ways of life — without opening ourselves, in docility to the Spirit, to the newness of what we encounter. Along with this temptation, there is also that of our luggage, which, for similar reasons, we fill with useless things that end up being a burden. At the same time, we must not forget something we learn from the troubles of so many migrants: a person who is alone, without roots and without resources, suffers terribly and finds it very difficult to establish solid bonds in the place where they arrive.

Thus, in this first phase of our journey, our response to the question of how to face the challenge before us must prudently combine freedom and courage, so that we may leave behind structures that do not help us, do not respond to our needs, or even lead us away from our goal, while having the strength to treasure what facilitates it. How can we fail to recall here the immense Christian heritage of your land, the enormous power of attraction that this richness offers: through its beauty, which reaches even the non-believer, or through the bonds of belonging weaved into the spiritual identity of every corner of this beloved people, and which remains present even in moments when their faith wavers? This is undoubtedly a tremendous challenge, to which we are called to respond with courage, so that this heritage may reach its potential in bearing good fruit.

Another treasure we cannot forget in our backpack is the pilgrim’s Viaticum. The Bread of the Word and of the Eucharist are even more necessary to us than material food because they open for us the way to salvation. It is not a matter of how to make the celebration more or less attractive; it is about feeling that, if we are part of him, his absence causes in us a restlessness comparable to physical hunger. The sacramental life gives rhythm to our existence, like that of a child receiving nourishment from its mother, or like that of an athlete gauging the strength needed to reach the finish line.

One great difficulty that arises when traveling is that of communicating with others. Whether due to different languages and cultures, mistrust of the unknown, or the quarrels and misunderstandings that can arise even among those close to us, we feel limited when it comes to expressing ourselves or understanding the person with whom we are speaking. We can apply this experience to the proclamation of the Gospel, to welcoming others, to the ability to respond to the questions of the world around us, or to the need to foster shared responsibility among community members in our pastoral actions. We previously said that we must leave behind everything that holds us back and isolates us; here, the guiding principle is that our heritage should be an instrument and an opportunity for dialogue with those we encounter along the way.

As happens to pilgrims on the Camino de Santiago, on our journey we see before us those vast and bare Castilian plains. The few encounters pilgrims have with some elderly people or foreign workers can serve as a metaphor for many social situations that, unfortunately, exist in some of your ecclesial realities. This is not the first time Spain has faced such a situation: in the past, for example, when the Church had to rebuild its presence in scorched lands, models of evangelization emerged that were later exported to the Americas, and they can help us here in our mission.

We too are called to build a new reality through respectful dialogue and the use of new languages, like the famous “holy mufti” of Granada, Friar Hernando de Talavera, and later Saint Toribio de Mogrovejo in the Americas, an exemplary bishop who reached out to others in a time of mission and ecclesial reorganization and whose third centenary of canonization we are celebrating. Although the languages in this digital age are different and the cultures that now make up the mosaic of our realities — with migrants from all parts of the world — have also changed, the spirit must remain.

What are the essential elements of that spirit? The first is the ability to communicate, to speak to every reality present in our territory, to humble oneself so as not only to understand, but to share. Only by gathering all the good that exists in our own heritage, with each of us doing our part, can we build a new reality in which faith can take deep root. Naturally, to make this happen, we must begin by learning the language of the other, initiating processes and weaving bonds where we can sow the seed of the kingdom. The second is the call to create realities that are capable in themselves of communicating the experience of faith, that are capable of bringing — as Toribio did — the experience of Granada to the Americas, that is, of packing in our luggage the resources that allow us to face with openness the ever-new challenges of evangelization in every circumstance.

After the deserted plains, we will also encounter large cities, where silence and distance are not spatial but interpersonal. The responses will be different, but the processes for reaching them are analogous: listening, understanding, respect, generosity and openness.

Pilgrims often set out at night, and the initial darkness of the path can often frighten them. The vespers hymn, “Night is the time of salvation,” reminds us that if we are in good company, the difficulties of the journey and the danger of getting lost are reduced. It is the Lord who leads us; he is the master of history and of each of our stories. He determines the rhythm. We walk behind him; indeed, we walk with him as members of one body. This profound bond demands of the Church, in this time of increasingly drastic polarizations and oppositions, a witness to unity in diversity: a communion capable of embracing the richness of the gifts, charisms and sensibilities that the Holy Spirit stirs up in the people of God. The image of Christ is made visible in the living mosaic of the Church, where many tiles, without blending together, converge to reveal the beauty of the one Lord.

In this task, the ministry of the bishop takes on a particular significance. We are called to be a visible sign of communion: first and foremost, of communion with Christ, lovingly safeguarding the faith we have received, in docility to the Word of God and to the living Tradition of the Church. Secondly, in communion with the Successor of Peter and with the universal Church, with the presbyterate and with the diocesan community itself, with consecrated life, with movements, with associations, and with every authentic charism that the Spirit bestows for the common good. Your mission calls you to safeguard unity, foster dialogue, heal divisions and accompany the journey of the people entrusted to your care.

Communion lived in this way also brings about missionary vitality. A Church that is interiorly at peace can speak more freely to brothers and sisters of other Christian denominations and other religions, to those who do not believe, to civil authorities, and to all people of good will who work for the common good.

This call to be a sign of communion in Christ — walking in unity and reaching out to the brother or sister we meet — places us before another challenge that touches the hearts of many today: the difficulty of making definitive commitments and profound life decisions. For so many young people — and not only them — the question, “For whom am I?” resonates as a sincere search for meaning, belonging and self-giving. The human heart is not filled by accumulating experiences, possibilities or a fleeting sense of security; it is filled when it discovers a calling, when it understands that life reaches its fullness only if it is given away.

For this reason, vocational ministry cannot be reduced to a mere pursuit of numbers. It springs from living communities, from happy priests, from families capable of bearing witness to the beauty of fidelity, from a Church that knows how to show with simplicity that following Christ does not impoverish existence, but rather expands it. Where the Gospel is lived with joy, service and communion, the Lord’s call can also be heard anew as a promise of life.

Previously, we mentioned burdensome luggage. Pilgrims on the Camino de Santiago know well that only the essentials should be carried in a backpack. As  Pope Francis  often said, in the current vocational context, the preservation of structures cannot take precedence over the good of the vocation itself. Seminarians have a right to the best possible formation, and the Church, for her part, has a right to well-formed priests. The criterion for seminaries to be authentic houses of formation is that they ensure an adequate experience of community life; that they have formators fully dedicated to study and teaching, with experience in spiritual accompaniment; and that they have centers of higher theological learning, equipped with the necessary means to fulfill their mission. To this end, it is essential not only to join forces but also to learn to work together in managing these challenges.

In this sphere, difficulties can be seen as opportunities. At times, we find it difficult to explain the vocation of the laity and their integration into this journey of life that we as a Church are undertaking. On the other hand, we see how in many ministries, traditionally managed by religious, lay collaborators are being called upon to continue the work. It is a difficulty that we can turn into an opportunity for encounter, dialogue and communication. It is up to us to ensure that these laypeople come to perceive their participation in this ecclesial service as a call from God to take on their responsibility as Christians, internalizing the spirit and feeling part of the mission that the Lord entrusted to the religious who established it.

As you can see, our journey is made up of encounters, and we will also meet people who are going through dark times and who call on us to be their Good Samaritans. One of the most painful encounters is with those who have been wounded precisely by those who were supposed to care for them, including members of the clergy. Faced with this scourge, the ecclesial community is called to respond with listening, truth, justice, reparation and an ever more determined commitment to prevention and a culture of care. Every wounded person must be able to find sincere listening, welcome, protection and real paths to healing.

This same logic also applies to the challenges of a secularized world. Many men and women of our time do not directly reject God; often they carry in their hearts a deep thirst for meaning, truth, belonging and hope, even when they do not know how to name it. The Church is called to recognize these longings, to listen to them with respect, and to offer — as Peter and John did to the paralytic at the temple gate — the treasure entrusted to her: Jesus Christ, in whose name a person can rise and walk (cf.  Acts  3:1–10). When collaborating with other religious or civil institutions, and also when offering material aid, education, assistance or support for human development, the Church never ceases to offer what is uniquely her own: the love of God revealed in Christ. That message resonates in society, which does not hesitate to express its appreciation for many of these works. Thus, every gesture of Christian charity born of the Gospel carries within it a greater promise: to restore to the person the conviction of being loved.

On our journey, we are travelling through what  Saint John Paul II  chose to call “Mary’s Land” ( Homily at the Celebration of the Word and National Marian Ceremony , Zaragoza, 6 November 1982, 1). In the Blessed Virgin, the mother of communion and hope, you have your first companion on the journey and your greatest treasure, for she shows us through her life how to welcome the Word and keep it in our hearts, how to accompany the disciples on this path and how to remain present on the Church’s journey. To her I entrust your ministry, that she may help you to be, in the midst of the people entrusted to you, that hidden leaven mentioned in the Gospel. Small in the eyes of the world, yet capable, when united to Christ, of leavening the dough (cf.  Mt  13:33). The strength of the Church does not come from the greatness of her resources, but from the holiness of her children, from the communion of her pastors, and from the humble and persevering fidelity of those who allow themselves to be guided by the Spirit.

On this journey, Saint John of Avila, patron of the Spanish clergy, also accompanies you as we commemorate this year the fifth centenary of his priestly ordination.  Saint Paul VI  described him as “a benevolent and wise teacher of the spiritual life, an exemplary renovator of ecclesiastical life and Christian customs” and, at the same time, “a simple priest” ( Homily at the Canonization of Blessed John of Avila , 31 May 1970). In this holy Doctor of the Church, the Church recognizes the priestly life that every bishop is called to safeguard and foster within his own presbyterate.

Looking to him, I am reminded of those who are the bishops’ closest companions on this journey: “simple priests,” in the highest and most demanding sense of the term. Our journey with them should convey the importance of the essentials: to be priests who are in love with Christ, rooted in prayer, faithful to the Church, close to the people, and capable of uniting sound doctrine, apostolic zeal and pastoral charity. Priests who find in the bishop not only a recognized authority, but a father who accompanies them; and in the other priests, brothers with whom to share the hardships and joys of this pilgrimage that is full of encounters, through which we all seek Christ.

Let us conclude this spiritual journey with a prayer from the holy Doctor, who reminds us that every ecclesial renewal is born of a heart conformed to Christ: “If you command me, Lord, to do what you did, give me your heart” ( Sermon  57:20). Let this also be our plea: Lord, give us your heart, a heart capable of lifting its gaze toward you, of setting out on the journey, of listening, of discerning, of serving, of correcting with charity, of attending with patience and of proclaiming with joy. For the Church that receives the heart of Christ carries with her the pillar of fire that guides her, sustains her, defends her and comforts her — necessary provisions to face any challenge.

God bless you. Thank you very much.

At 9.30 this morning, after celebrating Holy Mass in private, the Holy Father Leo XIV met privately with the President of the Government of Spain, Pedro Sánchez Pérez-Castejón.

Subsequently, at 10.15, the Pope left the Apostolic Nunciature and transferred by car to the Palacio de las Cortes for the meeting with the members of the Spanish Parliament.

Upon arrival, at 10.30, Pope Leo XIV was welcomed at the main entrance by the President of the Congress of Deputies, Francina Armengol, the President of the Senate, Pedro Rollán Ojeda, and another six leaders.

After the playing of the national anthems of Spain and Vatican City, the Presidents of the Congress and the Senate accompanied the Holy Father to the Salón de Pasos Perdidos.

Then, after the official photograph, the Pope signed the Guest Book and a reproduction of the Book of Hours was presented.

Subsequently, in the Salón de Plenos , following the words of welcome by the President of the Congress of Deputies, Pope Leo XIV delivered his address.

At the conclusion, the Holy Father travelled by car to the headquarters of the Spanish Episcopal Conference.

The following is the address the Pope delivered to those present during the meeting:

 

Address of the Holy Father

Mr Prime Minister, Madam President of the Congress of Deputies, Mr President of the Senate, Mr President of the Constitutional Court, Madam President of the Supreme Court and the General Council of the Judiciary, Members of the Congress of Deputies and the Senate, Ladies and gentlemen,

I thank the President for her kind words, as well as for the invitation the Apostolic See received on the occasion of my visit to this country. I am also grateful for the courtesy of welcoming me to this historic Palace of the Congress of Deputies, a prominent center of the institutional, legal and democratic life of the Kingdom of Spain. I come before you as the Bishop of Rome and Shepherd of the Catholic Church, aware that the mission entrusted to the Successor of the Apostle Peter, as the principle and foundation of the unity of the Bishops and the faithful (cf.  Lumen Gentium , 23), places the Holy See, in a special way, in dialogue with peoples and with States.

My presence among you is intended as a gesture of closeness to Spain, within the framework of mutual cooperation, and as a message offered in the spirit of service to the human person. The Church “walks alongside humanity,” shares its hopes and its wounds, listens to the questions of every age and allows herself to be challenged by “everything concerning the lives of contemporary men and women.” For this reason, when the Church addresses anything concerning public life, she does so while respecting the proper mission of institutions and the legitimate responsibility of those who have received the mandate to legislate. She recognizes “the autonomy of earthly realities” and “the distinction between the ecclesial community and the political community”; and, precisely from this awareness, the Church offers a reflection born of the desire to serve the common good and to recall what makes human coexistence truly human (cf.  Magnifica Humanitas , 18, 19, 22).

In this chamber, social coexistence takes legal form. Here, differences are heard, sorted out, and, when possible, transformed into shared decisions. For this reason, beyond the legitimate diversity of positions, every legislative task ultimately confronts a decisive question: what conception of the human person inspires laws, and what kind of society do those laws build?

In this regard, Spain has a particularly rich heritage. Its geographical and political identity is intertwined with a history in which faith and reason, art and law, tradition and thought have come together in a fruitful manner. In its cathedrals and universities, its immortal literature, its legal institutions and the very spirit of its people, endures a heritage that has shaped its way of living out freedom, practicing justice and organizing communal life.

From the timeless pages of Don Quixote, where Cervantes proclaimed that “freedom… is one of the most precious gifts that heaven has bestowed upon men” ( Don Quixote de la Mancha , II, 58), to the spiritual depth of Saint Teresa of Ávila, and from the great Spanish legal tradition to the metaphysical restlessness of Unamuno, who recalled that man “was not resigned to die utterly” ( The Tragic Sense of Life , I), Spain has known how to view the human being as more than just a cog in the social, economic or political order. It has recognized the human being as a creature open to truth, endowed with freedom, and driven by a thirst for eternity that no temporal reality can quench — in a word, as someone whose dignity takes precedence over all utility and to whose service legislative action is subject.

For this reason, when speaking today of the human person, this reflection naturally leads to Salamanca and the thought that matured there. The symbolic presence in this hall of King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella recalls the moment when Spain found itself facing historic responsibilities of universal scope. A few years later, Salamanca would undertake, with particular clarity, the moral and legal reflection that the situation demanded. At that university, five hundred years ago, when new worlds and immense possibilities were opening up in relations among peoples, some teachers understood that reason could not be invoked to legitimize whatever force or self-interest that seemed convenient. They thus introduced into historical discernment the question of the irreducible value of every human being and the moral limits of power. It must be acknowledged that society and the Church herself did not always live up to these insights found in their own Christian tradition.

However, that question opened up an intellectual and moral horizon that transcended its historical moment. The intuition of the  totus orbis  — of a human community broader than any particular power — made it possible to affirm the existence of legal and moral bonds among peoples. From Spain, the reflections of the School of Salamanca — and in particular those of Fray Francisco de Vitoria, along with other Dominicans and Jesuits — helped to shape a legal and moral consciousness capable of remembering that authority always entails responsibility and that every human being must be recognized as a subject of rights and duties. That aspiration continues to resonate today: that dignity, justice and the common good should be the measure of social relations, both at the national and international levels.

This is one of Spain’s great legacies: having united historical action with the clarity of moral reason. That contribution, born on the banks of the Tormes, transcended classrooms and libraries, and became part of a broader consciousness, shared by the international community, which continues to ask itself how to build peace on the recognition of the person and not on the imposition of force. That legacy also lives on in this Parliament, every time lawmakers ask themselves how to ensure that what is possible is just, that what is legal is truly humane, and that the will of the majority safeguards those goods that belong to all and respects that which no majority can legitimately violate.

The “Salamanca Question” continues to guide the work of those who serve in public life. Today, the new worlds opening up before us are no longer marked on maps: they unfold in technology, the economy, biomedicine, and the digital realm, where human power reaches into increasingly sensitive areas of personal and social life.

Progress offers admirable possibilities, and today we see this in a unique way in the development of artificial intelligence and new technologies. As I recalled  in my recent Encyclical , technology in itself is not neutral because it takes on the face of those who conceive, finance, regulate and use it (cf.  Magnifica Humanitas , 9); therefore, in the face of the transformations of our time, our discernment must focus on the place of the human person in our decision making and on how the dignity of work, solidarity, social policy and the common good are today being addressed in new ways.

This discernment begins with a fundamental affirmation: every truly just society is built upon the recognition of the inviolable dignity of the human person. Such dignity precedes any concession by the State and cannot be subordinated to shifting social consensus or the whims of the majority at any given moment (cf. Benedict XVI,  Address to the German Federal Parliament , 22 September 2011). It belongs to every human being by the very fact of their existence, and for this reason, it must guide every positive legal system. The Christian faith proclaims it on the basis of Revelation; human reason can recognize it as a requirement inscribed in the truth of man (cf.  ibid. ). When this conviction remains alive, the law becomes a safeguard for all and a guarantee against the imposition of particular interests and agendas.

On this basis, it falls to me today to speak a calm and firm word to those who bear the grave responsibility of legally ordering social coexistence. This coexistence can be threatened by the throwaway culture, as  Pope Francis  so often warned (cf.  Address to the Plenary Assembly of the Pontifical Academy for Life , 27 September 2021). In this sense, if life ceases to be recognized as a fundamental value, what future can our societies have? Can a community that casts into the shadows the unborn child, the elderly, the sick, those who suffer in silence, or those who depend entirely on the care of others be called fully just? The defense of human life is neither a partisan issue nor a confessional interest: it is a goal of civilization. Every human life must be recognized and safeguarded from conception to its natural end, in every circumstance of its existence. When this certainty is obscured, the most vulnerable are the first victims, and the law loses its deepest meaning: to serve and protect every person. For this reason, the moral greatness of a nation is manifested, above all, in its capacity to accompany, protect and love those lives that are most fragile.

The common good is, in a certain sense, the “social expression of the dignity recognized in every person” ( Magnifica Humanitas , 59). It does not consist in the mere sum of particular interests, but rather in “the sum of those conditions of social life which allow social groups and their individual members relatively thorough and ready access to their own fulfillment” ( Gaudium et Spes , 26). When the common good ceases to be a shared horizon, public action runs the risk of fragmenting into partial interests, incapable of safeguarding what belongs to all.

In this context, the family — the primary human reality and the natural foundation of the community — takes on particular importance. In the home, generations intertwine and a living memory is passed on, giving inner continuity to society. Where the family is upheld, the spiritual and social stability of nations is also strengthened. The family will always be the first school of humanity, where one learns, before anywhere else, the basic grammar of living together: welcoming life, caring for others, forgiving, serving and belonging.

Educational institutions also play a decisive role in this task. In them, new generations can learn to seek and love the truth, to reflect on the meaning of life and the dignity of every person. For this reason, many parents who wish for their children to learn to relate to others, to think critically, and to acquire solid values place great hope in these institutions, seeing them as valuable allies in their children’s education. This collaboration must always respect the “primary and inalienable right” of parents to “choose the kind of education and formation for their children, in a manner consistent with their moral, cultural and religious convictions” (cf.  Magnifica Humanitas , 143; cf.  International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights , art. 18.4).

The affirmation of human dignity cannot remain abstract when so many people are forced to leave everything behind in search of peace, security, and a future. The tragic drama of migration also challenges the conscience of nations and the ethical foundation of the international order today. Numerous men, women, and children are forced, by often dramatic circumstances, to leave their communities and leave behind loved ones, histories, and ties. This reality goes beyond any purely demographic or economic analysis: it constitutes an eminently moral and legal issue. Wherever people are discriminated against because of their national, ethnic, religious or linguistic origin, or because of their economic or social status, the universal principle of the equal dignity of all human beings is seriously violated.

The situation of migrants and refugees calls for a response that focuses on people, addresses the root causes that force them to leave, and goes beyond the mere management of migration flows. This gives rise to a twofold demand for social justice: to offer safe and legal pathways, a respectful welcome and real opportunities for integration; and, at the same time, to promote the right to remain in one’s own land, working to ensure that no one has to leave their home due to a lack of peace, security or decent living conditions, including economic inequalities and the effects of the climate crisis (cf.  Magnifica Humanitas , 81).

In recent years, increasingly dangerous routes have highlighted the extremely high cost of this reality, so often hidden or ignored. Many people remain prey to traffickers and smugglers who take advantage of their desperation. It is necessary to strengthen prevention, rescue and assistance for victims, especially within the framework of regional and multilateral cooperation.

No nation can face a challenge of this magnitude on its own. Therefore, a coordinated, supportive, and effective response is indispensable, one capable of guaranteeing protection, welcome, and real opportunities for integration to those who migrate. When the institutional response is accessible, just and coordinated, borders cease to be places of abandonment and can become spaces for the responsible protection of human dignity.

Ladies and gentlemen:

The world is undergoing a profound spiritual and cultural crisis, which manifests in multiple forms of violence, polarization and mutual distrust. In this context, peace emerges as a political aspiration and, even more so, as a true moral imperative. It calls for public discourse that respects those who think differently, institutions dedicated to fostering dialogue, a historical memory that seeks truth and reconciliation and a social life capable of sustaining civic friendship and mutual respect amid disagreement.

On the international level, peace demands diplomatic courage, ethical responsibility and a vision for the future grounded in respect for the identity of every people and in the obligation of States to resolve their disputes through the peaceful means offered by international law. Every war constitutes, ultimately, a painful defeat of the capacity to negotiate and also of that common human consciousness that recognizes bonds of justice among nations. Weapons may impose a temporary silence; but they can never build a genuine and lasting peace.

It is therefore a cause for concern that, in various parts of the world — and in Europe as well — rearmament is once again being presented as an almost inevitable response to the fragility of the international situation. True security, however, stems from justice, patient dialogue, respect for international law, and a policy capable of placing the lives of peoples above the interests that profit from war. The development of new technologies and artificial intelligence in the military sphere also demands rigorous ethical oversight, so that decisions regarding life and death are never left to automated systems nor removed from the moral responsibility of the human person (cf.  Address at the University of La Sapienza , 14 May 2026).

The international community is called to rediscover the indispensable value of dialogue as a patient path toward just and lasting agreements, founded on respect for treaties, on the transparency of diplomatic action and on the sincere will to prioritize peace over the use of force. From this spring confidence and hope.

As the motto of the European Union,  In varietate concordia , reminds us, true unity does not standardize, but rather unites in diversity, making cultures, sensibilities, and traditions an opportunity for mutual enrichment.

Likewise, within societies themselves, it is urgent to build a culture of reciprocity. Political pluralism should not degenerate into the constant disparagement of one’s adversary. In a mature society, even conflict can become a path to peace, when differences are softened by listening and directed toward recognizing the needs, aspirations and capabilities of all.

But peace is not merely a political or institutional reality. It is also the fruit of conscience, where resentment, indifference, and hatred give way to reconciliation. For this reason, it is also established and protected through language. Words can open paths or close them; they can illuminate reality or distort it to the point of making encounter impossible. Those who hold public office therefore have a special obligation to be mindful of their words in order to disarm language (cf.  Message for Lent 2026 , 13 February 2026). Firmness does not require contempt; disagreement does not entail humiliation.

From this respect for others also arises the duty to safeguard the space where their convictions, their conscience, and their relationship with God mature. Attention to this inner realm allows for a better understanding of a decisive issue for every truly democratic society: freedom of thought, conscience and religion, a fundamental right that protects the most intimate sphere of the person. The freedom upon which the contemporary state is built, if it is authentic, recognizes the religious dimension of the human person, respects it and protects it legally; and it ensures that faith is not a reason for which a person has to forfeit his or her contribution to society.

Without confusing the legal sphere with the moral one, it is also worth recalling that freedom must be understood in its fullness. Being free does not simply mean being free from coercion or having many choices; it means being able to recognize the good and commit to it responsibly. For this reason, every truly free society also requires a proper limitation of public power, so that the freedom of individuals, communities and associations is not unduly restricted (cf.  Dignitatis Humanae , 1). From this perspective, the legitimate autonomy of the temporal order must never see itself as hostile to religion. Faith does not seek to impose itself through privileges or coercion; yet neither can it be silenced as if it were irrelevant to public life.

In this context, the sacramental seal of confession holds special importance for the Catholic Church. It is part of the broader sphere of religious freedom, which guarantees believing communities their own space for life, organization and internal discipline (cf. Conference on Security and Cooperation in Europe,  The Helsinki Final Act , 1 August 1975, Principle VII). To protect it legally, as is done in a similar way in some professions, means preserving a sacred space of inner freedom, where the believer can open his or her soul to God without fear of external pressures, as international norms also recognize (cf. International Criminal Court,  Rules of Procedure and Evidence , Rule 73.3).

Ladies and Gentlemen:

Allow me to pause for a moment to reflect on some of the images that adorn this Chamber. In this Chamber, natural light streams in through the skylight that crowns the room. That light coming from above may remind us that politics, too, must acknowledge a force that precedes and transcends it.

Likewise, the paintings on the upper part of the main wall, depicting the reception of the Gospel and the Decalogue, remind us of something essential. Without confusing the political order with the religious one, these symbols invite us to recognize that modern freedom has also been shaped by a long education of conscience, deeply marked by the Christian tradition. In that inner school, people learned that law must serve the good, that justice sets limits on force, that power requires legitimacy, that the poor belong fully to the community, that the foreigner must be welcomed in accordance with his dignity, and that human life can never be treated as a commodity.

A law does not attain its true greatness merely by having been formally enacted; it attains it when, in addition to being valid in form, it can stand before the dignity of the person and pass that test without shame.

I invite you, then, to lift your gaze to the world around you, not to turn away from reality, but to remember that every decision by public authorities affects real people, especially those who have less power to make their voices heard. The expanse of one’s vision consists precisely in looking more deeply at what is at stake in every public decision. This is why, alongside technical solutions and legal reforms, a moral renewal is also needed.

Spain has much to offer on this journey. It possesses a language that bridges continents; a cultural, legal and spiritual tradition that has successfully fostered a dialogue between faith and reason, law and conscience, unity and plurality. This historical experience also reminds us of the value of harmony and of the patient effort to build a peaceful and just society.

May this noble nation never lose sight of its roots nor the courage to look to the future. May Spain continue to be a land of encounter, of culture, of solidarity and of hope. And may its public life always know how to unite the firmness of convictions with the nobility of dialogue and the greatness of service.

May God grant peace to all nations of the earth, harmony to families and serenity to consciences. And may days of prosperity, justice and lasting peace descend upon the Kingdom of Spain, marked by the apostolic footprint of Saint James and by the maternal presence of Our Lady of the Pillar. Thank you very much.