|
MESSAGE OF HIS HOLINESS POPE LEO XIV
FOR THE LIX WORLD DAY OF PEACE
1st JANUARY 2026
_______________________________
Peace be with you all:
Towards an “unarmed and disarming” peace
“Peace be with you!”
This ancient greeting, still in use today in
many cultures, was infused with new life on the
evening of Easter on the lips of the risen
Jesus.
“Peace be with you” ( Jn 20:19, 21) is
his Word that does not merely desire peace, but
truly brings about a lasting transformation in
those who receive it, and consequently in all of
reality.
For this reason, the Apostles’ successors
give voice every day throughout the world to the
most silent of revolutions: “Peace be with you!”
From the very evening of my election as
Bishop of Rome, I have wanted to join my own
greeting to this universal proclamation. And I
would like to reiterate that this is the peace
of the risen Christ – a peace that is unarmed
and disarming, humble and persevering.
It comes from God who loves us all
unconditionally. [1]
The peace of the risen Christ
The Good Shepherd, who gives his life for the
flock and has other sheep not of this fold (cf.
Jn 10:11,16), is Christ, our peace, who has
conquered death and broken down the walls of
division that separate humanity (cf. Eph 2:14).
His presence, his gift and his victory continue
to shine through the perseverance of many
witnesses through whom God’s work carries on in
the world, becoming even more visible and
radiant in the darkness of our times.
The contrast between darkness and light is not
only a biblical image describing the labor pains
of a new world being born; it is also an
experience that unsettles us and affects us amid
the trials we face in our historical
circumstances. In order to overcome the
darkness, it is necessary to see the light and
believe in it. This is a call that Jesus’
disciples are invited to live in a unique and
privileged way; yet it also finds its way into
every human heart. Peace exists; it wants to
dwell within us.
It has the gentle power to enlighten and
expand our understanding; it resists and
overcomes violence. Peace is a breath of the
eternal: while to evil we cry out “Enough,” to
peace we whisper “Forever.”
Into this horizon the Risen One has led
us.
Sustained by this conviction, even amid what
Pope Francis called “a third world war fought
piecemeal,” peacemakers continue to resist the
spread of darkness, standing as sentinels in the
night.
Sadly, it is also possible to forget the light.
When this happens, we lose our sense of realism
and surrender to a partial and distorted view of
the world, disfigured by darkness and fear. Many
today call “realistic” those narratives devoid
of hope, blind to the beauty of others and
forgetful of God’s grace, which is always at
work in human hearts, even though wounded by
sin.
Saint Augustine urged Christians to forge
an unbreakable bond with peace, so that by
cherishing it deeply in their hearts, they would
be able to radiate its luminous warmth around
them.
Addressing his community, he wrote: “If
you wish to draw others to peace, first have it
yourselves; be steadfast in peace yourselves.
To inflame others, you must have the
flame burning within.” [2]
Dear brothers and sisters, whether we have the
gift of faith or feel we lack it, let us open
ourselves to peace! Let us welcome it and
recognize it, rather than believing it to be
impossible and beyond our reach. Peace is more
than just a goal; it is a presence and a
journey. Even when it is endangered within us
and around us, like a small flame threatened by
a storm, we must protect it, never forgetting
the names and stories of those who have borne
witness to it. Peace is a principle that guides
and defines our choices. Even in places where
only rubble remains, and despair seems
inevitable, we still find people who have not
forgotten peace. Just as on the evening of
Easter Jesus entered the place where his
disciples were gathered in fear and
discouragement, so too the peace of the risen
Christ continues to pass through doors and
barriers in the voices and faces of his
witnesses. This gift enables us to remember
goodness, to recognize it as victorious, to
choose it again, and to do so together.
An unarmed peace
Shortly before being arrested, in a moment of
intimate confidence, Jesus said to those who
were with him: “Peace I leave with you; my peace
I give to you.
I do not give to you as the world gives.”
And he immediately added: “Do not let
your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be
afraid” (Jn 14:27). Their distress and fear were
certainly connected to the violence soon to
befall him. But, more deeply, the Gospels do not
hide the fact that what troubled the disciples
was his nonviolent response: a path that they
all, Peter first among them, contested; yet the
Master asked them to follow this path to the
end. The way of Jesus continues to cause unease
and fear. He firmly repeats to those who would
defend him by force: “Put your sword back into
its sheath” (Jn 18:11; cf. Mt 26:52). The peace
of the risen Jesus is unarmed, because his was
an unarmed struggle in the midst of concrete
historical, political and social circumstances.
Christians must together bear prophetic witness
to this novelty, mindful of the tragedies in
which they have too often been complicit. The
great parable of the Last Judgment invites all
Christians to act with mercy in this awareness
(cf. Mt 25:31-46). In doing so, they will find
brothers and sisters at their side who, in
different ways, have listened to the pain of
others and freed themselves inwardly from the
deception of violence.
Although many people today have hearts ready for
peace, they are often overcome by a great sense
of powerlessness before an increasingly
uncertain world.
Saint Augustine had already pointed out
this particular paradox: “It is not difficult to
possess peace; it is, perhaps, more difficult to
praise it. To praise peace, we may find that we
lack the necessary talent; we search for the
right ideas and weigh our words. But to have
peace, it is there, within reach, and we can
possess it without effort.” [3]
When we treat peace as a distant ideal, we cease
to be scandalized when it is denied, or even
when war is waged in its name. We seem to lack
those “right ideas,” the well-considered words
and the ability to say that peace is near. When
peace is not a reality that is lived, cultivated
and protected, then aggression spreads into
domestic and public life. In the relations
between citizens and rulers, it could even be
considered a fault not to be sufficiently
prepared for war, not to react to attacks, and
not to return violence for violence. Far beyond
the principle of legitimate defense, such
confrontational logic now dominates global
politics, deepening instability and
unpredictability day by day. It is no
coincidence that repeated calls to increase
military spending, and the choices that follow,
are presented by many government leaders as a
justified response to external threats.
The idea of the deterrent power of
military might, especially nuclear deterrence,
is based on the irrationality of relations
between nations, built not on law, justice and
trust, but on fear and domination by force.
“Consequently,” as Saint John XXIII had
already written in his day, “people are living
in the grip of constant fear. They are afraid
that at any moment the impending storm may break
upon them with horrific violence. And they have
good reasons for their fear, for there is
certainly no lack of such weapons. While it is
difficult to believe that anyone would dare to
assume responsibility for initiating the
appalling slaughter and destruction that war
would bring in its wake, there is no denying
that the conflagration could be started by some
chance and unforeseen circumstance.” [4]
Moreover, it should be noted that global
military expenditure increased by 9.4% in 2024
compared to the previous year, confirming the
trend of the last ten years and reaching a total
of $2718 billion (or 2.5% of global GDP). [5]
Furthermore, the response to new challenges
seems to involve not only enormous economic
investment in rearmament, but also a shift in
educational policies. Rather than fostering a
culture of memory that preserves the hard-won
awareness of the twentieth century and the
millions of victims, we now see communication
campaigns and educational programs – at schools,
universities and in the media – that spread a
perception of threats and promote only an armed
notion of defense and security.
And yet, “those who truly love peace also love
the enemies of peace.” [6]
Saint Augustine thus advised not to burn
bridges or persist in reproach, but to prefer
listening and, where possible, engaging in
discussions with others. Sixty years ago, the
Second Vatican Council concluded with a renewed
awareness of the pressing need for dialogue
between the Church and the contemporary world.
In particular, the Constitution Gaudium
et Spes drew attention to the evolution of
warfare: “The hazards peculiar to modern warfare
consist in the fact that they expose those
possessing recently developed weapons to the
risk of perpetrating crimes like these and, by
an inexorable chain of events, of urging people
to even worse acts of atrocity. To obviate the
possibility of this happening at any time in the
future, the bishops of the world gathered
together to implore everyone, especially
government leaders and military advisors, to
give unceasing consideration to their immense
responsibilities before God and before the whole
human race.” [7]
Reiterating the appeal of the Council Fathers,
and considering dialogue to be the most
effective approach at every level, we must
acknowledge that further technological advances
and the military implementation of artificial
intelligence have worsened the tragedy of armed
conflict. There is even a growing tendency among
political and military leaders to shirk
responsibility, as decisions about life and
death are increasingly “delegated” to machines.
This marks an unprecedented and destructive
betrayal of the legal and philosophical
principles of humanism that underlie and
safeguard every civilization. It is necessary to
denounce the enormous concentrations of private
economic and financial interests that are
driving States in this direction; yet that alone
would not be enough, unless we also awakened
conscience and critical thought. The Encyclical
Fratelli Tutti presents Saint Francis of Assisi
as a model of such awakening: “In the world of
that time, bristling with watchtowers and
defensive walls, cities were a theater of brutal
wars between powerful families, even as poverty
was spreading through the countryside. Yet there
Francis was able to welcome true peace into his
heart and free himself of the desire to wield
power over others. He became one of the poor and
sought to live in harmony with all.” [8] This is
a narrative that we are called to continue
today, and that means joining forces to
contribute to a disarming peace, a peace born of
openness and evangelical humility.
A disarming peace
Goodness is disarming. Perhaps this is why God
became a child. The mystery of the Incarnation,
which reaches its deepest descent even to the
realm of the dead, begins in the womb of a young
mother and is revealed in the manger in
Bethlehem. “Peace on earth,” sing the angels,
announcing the presence of a defenseless God, in
whom humanity can discover itself as loved only
by caring for him (cf. Lk 2:13-14). Nothing has
the power to change us as much as a child.
Perhaps it is precisely the thought of our
children and of others who are equally fragile,
that cuts to the heart (cf. Acts 2:37). In this
regard, my venerable predecessor wrote that
“human fragility has the power to make us more
lucid about what endures and what passes, what
brings life and what kills. Perhaps for this
reason, we so often tend to deny our limitations
and avoid fragile and wounded people: they have
the power to question the direction we have
chosen, both as individuals and as a community.”
[9]
John XXIII was the first pope to advocate
“integral disarmament,” which can only be
achieved through renewal of the heart and mind.
In Pacem in Terris, he wrote: “Everyone
must realize that, unless this process of
disarmament be thoroughgoing and complete, and
reach people’s very souls, it is impossible to
stop the arms race, or to reduce armaments, or —
and this is the main thing — ultimately to
abolish them entirely. Everyone must sincerely
co-operate in the effort to banish fear and the
anxious expectation of war from our minds. But
this requires that the fundamental principles
upon which peace is based in today’s world be
replaced by an altogether different one, namely,
the realization that true and lasting peace
among nations cannot consist in the possession
of an equal supply of armaments but only in
mutual trust. And we are confident that this can
be achieved, for it is a thing which not only is
dictated by common sense, but is in itself most
desirable and most fruitful of good.” [10]
An essential service that religions must render
to a suffering humanity is to guard against the
growing temptation to weaponize even thoughts
and words. The great spiritual traditions, as
well as right reason, teach us to look beyond
blood ties or ethnicity, beyond associations
that accept only those who are similar and
reject those who are different. Today, we see
that this cannot be taken for granted.
Unfortunately, it has become increasingly common
to drag the language of faith into political
battles, to bless nationalism, and to justify
violence and armed struggle in the name of
religion. Believers must actively refute, above
all by the witness of their lives, these forms
of blasphemy that profane the holy name of God.
Therefore, alongside action, it is more
necessary than ever to cultivate prayer,
spirituality, and ecumenical and interreligious
dialogue as paths of peace and as languages of
encounter within traditions and cultures.
Throughout the world, it is to be hoped that
“every community become a ‘house of peace,’
where one learns how to defuse hostility through
dialogue, where justice is practiced and
forgiveness is cherished.” [11] Now more than
ever, we must show that peace is not a utopia by
fostering attentive and life-giving pastoral
creativity.
At the same time, this should in no way detract
from the importance of the political dimension.
Those entrusted with the highest public
responsibility must “give serious thought to the
problem of achieving more humane relations
between States throughout the world. This
adjustment must be based on mutual trust,
sincerity in negotiations and the faithful
fulfilment of obligations. Every aspect of the
problem must be examined, so that, eventually, a
point of agreement may emerge from which
sincere, lasting, and beneficial treaties can be
initiated.” [12] This is the disarming path of
diplomacy, mediation and international law,
which is sadly too often undermined by the
growing violations of hard-won treaties, at a
time when what is needed is the strengthening of
supranational institutions, not their
delegitimization.
In today’s world, justice and human dignity are
at an alarming risk amid global power
imbalances. How can we live in this time of
destabilization and conflict, and free ourselves
from evil? We need to encourage and support
every spiritual, cultural and political
initiative that keeps hope alive, countering the
spread of “fatalistic terms, as if the dynamics
involved were the product of anonymous
impersonal forces or structures independent of
the human will.” [13] For, as has been
suggested, “the best way to dominate and gain
control over people is to spread despair and
discouragement, even under the guise of
defending certain values.” [14]
Against this strategy, we must promote
self-awareness in civil societies, forms of
responsible association, experiences of
nonviolent participation, and practices of
restorative justice on both a small and large
scale. Leo XIII had already made this clear in
his Encyclical Rerum Novarum: “The consciousness
of his own weakness urges the human person to
call in aid from without. We read in Scripture:
‘Two are better than one, for they have the
advantage of their society. For if they fall,
one will lift up his fellow; but woe to him who
is alone when he falls and has not another to
lift him up’ ( Eccles 4:9-10). And further: ‘A
brother that is helped by his brother is like a
strong city’ ( Prov 18:19).” [15]
May this be one of the fruits of the Jubilee of
Hope, which has moved millions of people to
rediscover themselves as pilgrims and to begin
within themselves that disarmament of heart,
mind and life. God will surely respond to this
by fulfilling his promises: “He shall judge
between the nations, and shall decide for many
peoples; and they shall beat their swords into
plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks;
nation shall not lift up sword against nation,
neither shall they learn war any more.
O house of Jacob, come, let us walk in
the light of the Lord” (Is 2, 4-5).
From the Vatican, 8 December 2025
LEO PP. XIV
____________________________________
[1] Cf. Apostolic Blessing “Urbi et Orbi,”
Central Loggia of the Vatican Basilica (8 May
2025).
[2] Saint Augustine of Hippo, Serm. 357, 3.
[3] Ibid., 1.
[4] John XXIII, Encyclical Letter Pacem in
terris (11 April 1963), 111.
[5] Cf. SIPRI Yearbook: Armaments, Disarmament
and International Security (2025).
[6] Saint Augustine of Hippo, Serm. 357, 1.
[7] Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the
Modern World Gaudium et Spes, 80.
[8] Francis, Encyclical Letter Fratelli Tutti (3
October 2020), 4.
[9] Francis, Letter to the Directors of “Corriere
della Sera” (14 March 2025).
[10] John XXIII, Encyclical Letter Pacem in
Terris (11 April 1963), 113.
[11] Leo XIV Address to the Bishops of the
Italian Episcopal Conference (17 June 2025).
[12] John XXIII, Encyclical Letter Pacem in
Terris (11 April 1963), 118.
[13] Benedict XVI, Encyclical Letter Caritas in
Veritate (29 June 2009), 42.
[14] Francis, Encyclical Letter Fratelli Tutti
(3 October 2020), 15.
[15] Leo XIII, Encyclical Letter Rerum Novarum
(15 May 1891), 50.
Copyright © Dicastery for Communication -
Libreria Editrice Vaticana
The Holy See
|