Read the full texts of the addresses of Pope Francis, including at St. Patrick’s Cathedral, the Ground Zero Memorial, Our Lady Queen of Angels School in Harlem and Madison Square Garden during his visit to New York Sept. 24-25. (His addresses to the staff and representatives of the United Nations are here.)


Homily of Pope Francis at vespers with the clergy, men and women religious
at St Patrick’s Cathedral in New York City,
Thursday, Sept. 24, 2015

“There is a cause for rejoicing here”, although “you may for a time have to suffer the distress of many trials” (1 Pet 1:6).  These words of the Apostle remind us of something essential.  Our vocation is to be lived in joy.

This beautiful Cathedral of Saint Patrick, built up over many years through the sacrifices of many men and women, can serve as a symbol of the work of generations of American priests and religious, and lay faithful who helped build up the Church in the United States.  In the field of education alone, how many priests and religious in this country played a central role, assisting parents in handing on to their children the food that nourishes them for life!  Many did so at the cost of extraordinary sacrifice and with heroic charity.  I think for example of Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton, who founded the first free Catholic school for girls in America, or Saint John Neumann, the founder of the first system of Catholic education in the United States.

This evening, my brothers and sisters, I have come to join you in prayer that our vocations will continue to build up the great edifice of God’s Kingdom in this country.  I know that, as a presbyterate in the midst of God’s people, you suffered greatly in the not distant past by having to bear the shame of some of your brothers who harmed and scandalized the Church in the most vulnerable of her members…  In the words of the Book of Revelation, I know well that you “have come forth from the great tribulation” (Rev 7:14).  I accompany you at this time of pain and difficulty, and I thank God for your faithful service to his people.  In the hope of helping you to persevere on the path of fidelity to Jesus Christ, I would like to offer two brief reflections.

The first concerns the spirit of gratitude.  The joy of men and women who love God attracts others to him; priests and religious are called to find and radiate lasting satisfaction in their vocation.  Joy springs from a grateful heart.  Truly, we have received much, so many graces, so many blessings, and we rejoice in this.  It will do us good to think back on our lives with the grace of remembrance.  Remembrance of when we were first called, remembrance of the road travelled, remembrance of graces received… and, above all, remembrance of our encounter with Jesus Christ so often along the way.  Remembrance of the amazement which our encounter with Jesus Christ awakens in our hearts.  To seek the grace of remembrance so as to grow in the spirit of gratitude.  Perhaps we need to ask ourselves: are we good at counting our blessings?

A second area is the spirit of hard work.  A grateful heart is spontaneously impelled to serve the Lord and to find expression in a life of commitment to our work.  Once we come to realize how much God has given us, a life of self-sacrifice, of working for him and for others, becomes a privileged way of responding to his great love.

Yet, if we are honest, we know how easily this spirit of generous self-sacrifice can be dampened.  There are a couple of ways that this can happen; both are examples of that “spiritual worldliness” which weakens our commitment to serve and diminishes the wonder of our first encounter with Christ.

We can get caught up measuring the value of our apostolic works by the standards of efficiency, good management and outward success which govern the business world.  Not that these things are unimportant!  We have been entrusted with a great responsibility, and God’s people rightly expect accountability from us.  But the true worth of our apostolate is measured by the value it has in God’s eyes.  To see and evaluate things from God’s perspective calls for constant conversion in the first days and years of our vocation and, need I say, great humility.  The cross shows us a different way of measuring success.  Ours is to plant the seeds: God sees to the fruits of our labors.  And if at times our efforts and works seem to fail and produce no fruit, we need to remember that we are followers of Jesus… and his life, humanly speaking, ended in failure, the failure of the cross.

Another danger comes when we become jealous of our free time, when we think that surrounding ourselves with worldly comforts will help us serve better.  The problem with this reasoning is that it can blunt the power of God’s daily call to conversion, to encounter with him.  Slowly but surely, it diminishes our spirit of sacrifice, renunciation and hard work.  It also alienates people who suffer material poverty and are forced to make greater sacrifices than ourselves.  Rest is needed, as are moments of leisure and self-enrichment, but we need to learn how to rest in a way that deepens our desire to serve with generosity.  Closeness to the poor, the refugee, the immigrant, the sick, the exploited, the elderly living alone, prisoners and all God’s other poor, will teach us a different way of resting, one which is more Christian and generous.

Gratitude and hard work: these are two pillars of the spiritual life which I have wanted to share with you this evening.  I thank you for prayers and work, and the daily sacrifices you make in the various areas of your apostolate.  Many of these are known only to God, but they bear rich fruit for the life of the Church.  In a special way I would like to express my esteem and gratitude to the religious women of the United States.  What would the Church be without you?  Women of strength, fighters, with that spirit of courage which puts you in the front lines in the proclamation of the Gospel.  To you, religious women, sisters and mothers of this people, I wish to say “thank you”, a big thank you…  and to tell you that I love you very much.

I know that many of you are in the front lines in meeting the challenges of adapting to an evolving pastoral landscape.  Whatever difficulties and trials you face, I ask you, like Saint Peter, to be at peace and to respond to them as Christ did: he thanked the Father, took up his cross and looked forward!

Dear brothers and sisters, in a few moments we will sing the Magnificat.  Let us commend to Our Lady the work we have been entrusted to do; let us join her in thanking God for the great things he has done, and for the great things he will continue to do in us and in those whom we have the privilege to serve.


Pope Francis’ prayer and reflection at interreligious meeting,
Ground Zero Memorial, New York,
Friday, Sept. 25, 2015

O God of love, compassion, and healing,
look on us, people of many different faiths
and religious traditions,
who gather today on this hallowed ground,
the scene of unspeakable violence and pain.
We ask you in your goodness
to give eternal light and peace
to all who died here:
the heroic first-responders:
our fire fighters, police officers,
emergency service workers, and
Port Authority personnel,
along with all the innocent men and women
who were victims of this tragedy
simply because their work or service
brought them here on September 11, 2001.

We ask you, in your compassion,
to bring healing to those
who, because of their presence here fourteen years ago,
continue to suffer from injuries and illness.
Heal, too, the pain of still-grieving families
and all who lost loved ones in this tragedy.
Give them strength to continue their lives
with courage and hope.

We are mindful as well
of those who suffered death, injury, and loss
on the same day at the Pentagon and in
Shanksville, Pennsylvania.
Our hearts are one with theirs
as our prayer embraces their pain and suffering.

God of peace, bring your peace to our violent world:
peace in the hearts of all men and women
and peace among the nations of the earth.
Turn to your way of love
those whose hearts and minds
are consumed with hatred
and who justify killing in the name of religion.
God of understanding,
overwhelmed by the magnitude of this tragedy,
we seek your light and guidance
as we confront such terrible events.
Grant that those whose lives were spared
may live so that the lives lost here
may not have been lost in vain.

Comfort and console us,
strengthen us in hope,
and give us the wisdom and courage
to work tirelessly for a world
where true peace and love reign
among nations and in the hearts of all.

Dear Friends,

I feel many different emotions standing here at Ground Zero, where thousands of lives were taken in a senseless act of destruction.  Here grief is palpable.  The water we see flowing towards that empty pit reminds us of all those lives which fell prey to those who think that destruction, tearing down, is the only way to settle conflicts.  It is the silent cry of those who were victims of a mindset which knows only violence, hatred and revenge.  A mindset which can only cause pain, suffering, destruction and tears.

The flowing water is also a symbol of our tears.  Tears at so much devastation and ruin, past and present.  This is a place where we shed tears, we weep out of a sense of helplessness in the face of injustice, murder, and the failure to settle conflicts through dialogue.  Here we mourn the wrongful and senseless loss of innocent lives because of the inability to find solutions which respect the common good.  This flowing water reminds us of yesterday’s tears, but also of all the tears still being shed today.

A few moments ago I met some of the families of the fallen first responders.  Meeting them made me see once again how acts of destruction are never impersonal, abstract or merely material.  They always have a face, a concrete story, names.  In those family members, we see the face of pain, a pain which still touches us and cries out to heaven.

At the same time, those family members showed me the other face of this attack, the other face of their grief: the power of love and remembrance.  A remembrance that does not leave us empty and withdrawn.  The name of so many loved ones are written around the towers’ footprints.  We can see them, we can touch them, and we can never forget them.

Here, amid pain and grief, we also have a palpable sense of the heroic goodness which people are capable of, those hidden reserves of strength from which we can draw.  In the depths of pain and suffering, you also witnessed the heights of generosity and service.  Hands reached out, lives were given.  In a metropolis which might seem impersonal, faceless, lonely, you demonstrated the powerful solidarity born of mutual support, love and self-sacrifice.  No one thought about race, nationality, neighborhoods, religion or politics.  It was all about solidarity, meeting immediate needs, brotherhood.  It was about being brothers and sisters.  New York City firemen walked into the crumbling towers, with no concern for their own wellbeing.  Many succumbed; their sacrifice enabled great numbers to be saved.

This place of death became a place of life too, a place of saved lives, a hymn to the triumph of life over the prophets of destruction and death, to goodness over evil, to reconciliation and unity over hatred and division.

It is a source of great hope that in this place of sorrow and remembrance I can join with leaders representing the many religious traditions which enrich the life of this great city.  I trust that our presence together will be a powerful sign of our shared desire to be a force for reconciliation, peace and justice in this community and throughout the world.  For all our differences and disagreements, we can live in a world of peace.  In opposing every attempt to create a rigid uniformity, we can and must build unity on the basis of our diversity of languages, cultures and religions, and lift our voices against everything which would stand in the way of such unity.  Together we are called to say “no” to every attempt to impose uniformity and “yes” to a diversity accepted and reconciled.

This can only happen if we uproot from our hearts all feelings of hatred, vengeance and resentment.  We know that that is only possible as a gift from heaven.  Here, in this place of remembrance, I would ask everyone together, each in his or her own way, to spend a moment in silence and prayer.  Let us implore from on high the gift of commitment to the cause of peace.  Peace in our homes, our families, our schools and our communities.  Peace in all those places where war never seems to end.  Peace for those faces which have known nothing but pain.  Peace throughout this world which God has given us as the home of all and a home for all.  Simply PEACE.

In this way, the lives of our dear ones will not be lives which will one day be forgotten.  Instead, they will be present whenever we strive to be prophets not of tearing down but of building up, prophets of reconciliation, prophets of peace.


Address of Pope Francis’ meeting with children and immigrant families,
Our Lady, Queen of Angels School, Harlem
Friday, Sept. 25, 2015

Dear Children,

I am very happy to be with you today, along with this big family which surrounds you.  I see your teachers, your parents and your family members.  Thank you for letting me come, and I ask pardon from your teachers for “stealing” a few minutes of their class time!

They tell me that one of the nice things about this school is that some of its students come from other places, even from other countries.  That is nice!  Even though I know that it is not easy to have to move and find a new home, new neighbors and new friends.  It is not easy.  At the beginning it can be hard, right?  Often you have to learn a new language, adjust to a new culture, even a new climate.  There is so much to learn!  And not just at school.

The good thing is that we also make new friends, we meet people who open doors for us, who are kind to us.  They offer us friendship and understanding, and they try to help us not to feel like strangers.  To feel at home.  How nice it is to feel that school is a second home.  This is not only important for you, but also for your families.  School then ends up being one big family.  One where, together with our mothers and fathers, our grandparents, our teachers and friends, we learn to help one another, to share our good qualities, to give the best of ourselves, to work as a team and to pursue our dreams.

Very near here is a very important street named after a man who did a lot for other people.  I want to talk a little bit about him.  He was the Reverend Martin Luther King.  One day he said, “I have a dream”.  His dream was that many children, many people could have equal opportunities.  His dream was that many children like you could get an education.  It is beautiful to have dreams and to be able to fight for them.

Today we want to keep dreaming.  We celebrate all the opportunities which enable you, and us adults, not to lose the hope of a better world with greater possibilities.  I know that one of the dreams of your parents and teachers is that you can grow up and be happy.  It is always good to see children smiling.  Here I see you smiling.  Keep smiling and help bring joy to everyone you meet.

Dear children, you have a right to dream and I am very happy that here in this school, in your friends and your teachers, you can find the support you need.  Wherever there are dreams, there is joy, Jesus is always present.  Because Jesus is joy, and he wants to help us to feel that joy every day of our lives.

Before going, I want to give you some homework.  Can I?  It is just a little request, but a very important one.  Please don’t forget to pray for me, so that I can share with many people the joy of Jesus. And let us also pray so that many other people can share the joy like yours.

May God bless you today and Our Lady protect you.


Homily of Pope Francis,
Mass at Madison Square Garden, New York,
Friday, Sept. 25, 2015

We are in Madison Square Garden, a place synonymous with this city.  This is the site of important athletic, artistic and musical events attracting people not only from this city, but from the whole world.  In this place, which represents both the variety and the common interests of so many different people, we have listened to the words: “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light” (Is 9:1).

The people who walked – caught up in their activities and routines, amid their successes and failures, their worries and expectations – have seen a great light.  The people who walked – with all their joys and hopes, their disappointments and regrets – have seen a great light.

In every age, the People of God are called to contemplate this light.  A light for the nations, as the elderly Simeon joyfully expressed it.  A light meant to shine on every corner of this city, on our fellow citizens, on every part of our lives.

“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light”.  One special quality of God’s people is their ability to see, to contemplate, even in “moments of darkness”, the light which Christ brings.  God’s faithful people can see, discern and contemplate his living presence in the midst of life, in the midst of the city.  Together with the prophet Isaiah, we can say: The people who walk, breathe and live in the midst of smog, have seen a great light, have experienced a breath of fresh air.

Living in a big city is not always easy.  A multicultural context presents many complex challenges.  Yet big cities are a reminder of the hidden riches present in our world: in the diversity of its cultures, traditions and historical experiences.  In the variety of its languages, costumes and cuisine.  Big cities bring together all the different ways which we human beings have discovered to express the meaning of life, wherever we may be.

But big cities also conceal the faces of all those people who don’t appear to belong, or are second-class citizens.  In big cities, beneath the roar of traffic, beneath “the rapid pace of change”, so many faces pass by unnoticed because they have no “right” to be there, no right to be part of the city.  They are the foreigners, the children who go without schooling, those deprived of medical insurance, the homeless, the forgotten elderly.  These people stand at the edges of our great avenues, in our streets, in deafening anonymity.  They become part of an urban landscape which is more and more taken for granted, in our eyes, and especially in our hearts.

Knowing that Jesus still walks our streets, that he is part of the lives of his people, that he is involved with us in one vast history of salvation, fills us with hope.  A hope which liberates us from the forces pushing us to isolation and lack of concern for the lives of others, for the life of our city.  A hope which frees us from empty “connections”, from abstract analyses, or sensationalist routines.  A hope which is unafraid of involvement, which acts as a leaven wherever we happen to live and work.  A hope which makes us see, even in the midst of smog, the presence of God as he continues to walk the streets of our city.

What is it like, this light travelling through our streets?  How do we encounter God, who lives with us amid the smog of our cities?  How do we encounter Jesus, alive and at work in the daily life of our multicultural cities?

The prophet Isaiah can guide us in this process of “learning to see”.  He presents Jesus to us as “Wonderful Counselor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace”.  In this way, he introduces us to the life of the Son, so that his life can be our life.

Wonderful Counselor.  The Gospels tell us how many people came up to Jesus to ask: “Master, what must we do?”  The first thing that Jesus does in response is to propose, to encourage, to motivate.  He keeps telling his disciples to go, to go out.  He urges them to go out and meet others where they really are, not where we think they should be.  Go out, again and again, go out without fear, without hesitation.  Go out and proclaim this joy which is for all the people.

The Mighty God.  In Jesus, God himself became Emmanuel, God-with-us, the God who walks alongside us, who gets involved in our lives, in our homes, in the midst of our “pots and pans”, as Saint Teresa of Jesus liked to say.

The Everlasting Father.  No one or anything can separate us from his Love.  Go out and proclaim, go out and show that God is in your midst as a merciful Father who himself goes out, morning and evening, to see if his son has returned home and, as soon as he sees him coming, runs out to embrace him.  An embrace which wants to take up, purify and elevate the dignity of his children.  A Father who, in his embrace, is “glad tidings to the poor, healing to the afflicted, liberty to captives, comfort to those who mourn” (Is 61:1-2).

Prince of Peace.  Go out to others and share the good news that God, our Father, walks at our side.  He frees us from anonymity, from a life of emptiness and selfishness, and brings us to the school of encounter.  He removes us from the fray of competition and self-absorption, and he opens before us the path of peace.  That peace which is born of accepting others, that peace which fills our hearts whenever we look upon those in need as our brothers and sisters.

God is living in our cities.  The Church is living in our cities, and she wants to be like yeast in the dough.  She wants to relate to everyone, to stand at everyone’s side, as she proclaims the marvels of the Wonderful Counselor, the Mighty God, the Eternal Father, the Prince of Peace.

“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light”.  And we ourselves are witnesses of that light.