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Do Not Fear Lose Influence

Roberto Damiano Battaglia - Leo XIV tells the Church to stop defending turf and start trusting the Gospel.

Two players and spectators around a giant outdoor chessboard in black and white, representing strategic struggle and cultural influence.

Beyond strategic moves and calculated positioning: the Gospel works not through tactical control, but through the power of its own attraction.

It is not a matter of numbers,” Leo XIV said at the Rimini Meeting, “although it is moving to see thousands of your peers asking for Baptism in societies considered among the most secularized in the world. It is a matter of freedom: the truth is encountered only in freedom.
— Roberto Damiano Battaglia
Roberto Damiano Battaglia Do Not Fear Lose Influence

Roberto Damiano Battaglia - Leo XIV calls on the Church to live in the present without fear, trusting in mercy, in encounter, and in the Gospel's power to attract.

Speaking at the Rimini Meeting, Leo XIV set out the fundamental features of Christian witness in the times we are living through. His perspective was positive—neither fearful nor defensive—and squarely focused on "the most human questions and an infinite desire for meaning, justice, and peace" that surface in the experience of the men and women of our time.

Drawing on the teaching of his predecessors—St. John Paul II, Benedict XVI, and Francis—the Pope pointed first to divine mercy "as the point of convergence between the Gospel and the 'new realities' of this dramatic and wonderful era."

What is at stake in that statement becomes clear when we recall that Benedict XVI, after resigning the Petrine ministry, singled out the same element of continuity in the recent magisterium. It is, he wrote, "a 'sign of the times' that the idea of God's mercy is becoming increasingly central and dominant," and he observed that the parable of the Good Samaritan speaks with particular force today, when humanity waits for someone who can embrace and heal all our wounds. St. Paul VI had cited the same parable in his closing address at Vatican II as "the paradigm of the Council's spirituality."

Leo XIV approached our "dramatic and wonderful" age from the same vantage point, calling on those at the Meeting to take up a specific "historical responsibility": they are called, "within the greater communion of the Church, to serve a humanity that hungers and thirsts for justice." In doing so, Prevost cleared the air around a familiar temptation—the urge to fear and fight "a certain loss of influence," under the illusion that Christian presence in society is established through hegemony. He invited us instead to "value more highly the power of the Gospel, the bonds it creates, the logic it ignites, and the life it brings forth."

The Pope pointed to "a world rife with maneuvers aimed at conquering markets and spheres of influence—often cloaked in reassuring rhetoric and seductive ideological constructs." Against that backdrop, he said, "our hearts feel the need to discover a different plan […] similar to the one Mary contemplates in the Magnificat, when she proclaims that from generation to generation God's mercy extends to those who fear him."

At the heart of this plan of mercy, which runs through today's history as well, "lies the mystery of the Incarnation" (Magnifica humanitas). Those at the Meeting were called to rediscover in that event the source of the originality of Christian presence in the world, following the teaching they have received: to "read the Gospel as the revelation of God who comes to meet us, as an event, a gaze, an experience."

The "realism of mercy"—which Catholic culture sets against a "false realism" that hardens minds and words—has no enemies, because "even adversaries are brothers and sisters to be looked in the eye and encountered in truth."

The Mystery of the Incarnation is a "disarming beauty," one that "calls for taking 'the educational risk'"—as Leo XIV put it—"that Fr. Giussani spoke to you about."

In our time, Giussani said, we are brought back to "evangelical poverty," because "the great problem of modern man is no longer a theoretical question but an existential one. Not 'Who is right?' but 'How does one live?' […] We must move from an intellectually critical stance to a passion for what marks man today: doubt about existence, the fear of existing, the fragility of life, and the inconsistency of the 'I.'"

The era we are called to live in thus shows itself to be the "acceptable time" (2 Cor 6:2). It is plain today that the Christian experience can be communicated only through impact—through an unexpected and unpredictable encounter with a transformed humanity—and for that very reason it can make credible what would otherwise be incomprehensible, to the point of raising the question: "Is it possible to live this way?"

"It is not a matter of numbers," Leo XIV clarified, "although it is moving to see thousands of your peers asking for Baptism in societies considered among the most secularized in the world. It is a matter of freedom: the truth is encountered only in freedom."

The "disarming beauty" of the Christian experience shows itself as such precisely because it has no strength other than the appeal the Pope highlighted, once again drawing on the teaching of his predecessors: "The Church does not proselytize. She grows by attraction."

He also called for unity within the Church's communion, with reference to synodality, which comes about through genuine listening. That rules out the self-referentiality that reduces community life to "a sort of enclave," a comfort zone where we wallow in self-satisfaction, under the illusion that we possess what we think we know—when in fact we can rediscover it only by opening ourselves to new encounters. What is required is a real openness to meeting others, inside and outside the Church, a point Leo XIV drove home: "Put yourselves out there! Open yourselves to true catholicity, extending your bonds beyond any overly narrow sense of belonging. Let the Movement, the groups, and the communities be a springboard from which to dive into the whole of reality. […] Go out to meet everyone!"

We are called to dig into this address, which is crucial for grasping the framework within which the Church's mission has to operate in our time. That task demands deep loyalty, so that it is not reduced to a dialectical debate over conflicting interpretations. To take in the Pope's words fully and on their own terms—words addressed to the whole Church at an event like the Meeting—we have to make his gaze our own, grateful to live in our time with its challenges, not running from them but engaging them, to rediscover in them, and thanks to them, the nature of the Christian Event.

The Church today cannot shirk this responsibility.

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Faith and Method

Fernando De Haro - During a week in Spain, Leo XIV proposed not a doctrine but a method.

Pope Leo XIV just completed his apostolic journey to Spain — 7 days, 4 cities, more than 2 million people.

This restlessness is a gift that God himself has given us: we are made for the infinite.
— Pope Leo XIV
Fernando De Haro A week with Leo XIV in Spain.

Fernando De Haro - A week with Leo XIV in Spain.

Leo XIV proposed not a doctrine but a method: cultivate the heart’s restlessness rather than flee from it. Over a week in Spain—Madrid, Barcelona, the Canary Islands—even those who do not share his faith felt no need to agree or disagree. It was enough to watch how he lives.

“I didn’t want to be Pope, neither when I was young nor now that I’m old, but when the Lord calls, you have to say yes.” Leo XIV confided this in Barcelona, answering questions from Renzo, a six-year-old boy. Allow an exaggeration, a simplification: a year in, Pope Prevost began his pontificate on this trip to Spain. You don’t learn to be Pope overnight.

In Madrid, Barcelona, and the Canary Islands, Leo XIV let the crowds cheer him; he stood at the center of long hours of celebration; he prayed and listened to the stories of many wounded people. He blessed dozens of children, improvised, laughed, wept, talked with nonbelievers, and—as a bishop—offered Parliament a few suggestions. He enjoyed himself. And, above all, he proposed a way to “be men and women of flesh and blood” in a world “in the face of which the feeling of having lost our bearings can prevail.”

For the week of his visit, Spain felt a flash of joy. The gestures and words of that shy man were disarmingly beautiful; they showed that the “unarmed and disarming peace” he preaches is real, not a utopia.

Many who wanted to hear him and speak with him are not Catholic, are not believers, and do not agree with everything—or even most—of what he proposes. The most striking case was the actor Antonio Banderas. Few felt any need to spell out where Leo XIV was right or wrong. In the end, what came through was how a person can live, and it was plain that he lives well.

This confirms that Spain is a post-secular society where the search for meaning runs deep. Leo XIV said as much to the bishops: “Many men and women of our time do not simply reject God; they often carry in their hearts a deep thirst for meaning (…) even when they do not know how to name it. The Church is called to recognize these desires, to listen to them with respect, and to offer (…) the treasure entrusted to her.” Far from what some have called “the illusion of unanimity,” it was clear that the Church does not presume to impose its own worldview from a position of dominance. Leo XIV embodied what he proposed: he stood “at the service of the human heart’s thirst—not in an imposing way, but through evangelical witness.”

At the Congress of Deputies, and on the Canary Islands docks where migrants come ashore, he insisted across his speeches on the need to “respect human dignity.” But that alone would not have been enough had he not pointed to a method for recognizing that dignity precisely where it is most often obscured: within one’s own self. And here Leo XIV again turned—as he has all year—to St. Augustine:

“Our desire for truth and happiness needs a broader horizon,” he told young people in Barcelona. “And this restlessness is a gift that God himself has given us: we are made for the infinite, and for this reason every finite horizon, every step—while satisfying us—at the same time invites us to keep searching.” His direction was precise. First: “we must cultivate this healthy restlessness.” Second: “It is in this world that we must cultivate this restlessness, not in another.” No escape, then, from our circumstances, no surrender to lamenting the darkness of the present. The “place where God makes himself present and where we must find his footprints” is always the reality in which we find ourselves. Earlier, he had told young people in Madrid: “Be certain that God knows your voice well—your voices: He hears you and will answer you. Do not be afraid to express what you feel in your hearts.”

To turn this restlessness into a journey, Leo XIV proposes neither a moral code nor a doctrine but the “experience of faith.” “The Church shares”—he stressed—“with humility, but also with firmness, what she has discovered in the experience of faith: that Jesus Christ answers the great questions about human life and its fullness, already in this world and culminating in eternity.” That experience, he said before the Holy Family, “remains today a work in progress, reminding us that the Christian life is always a journey, because it is a project that God is carrying forward. We do not, therefore, dwell in an unfinished work, but in a temple still under construction. Its imperfection is not a flaw, for it bears witness to a desire; it does not signify a lack, but expresses a promise.”

This dynamic keeps us “from closing ourselves off within the group or environment where we already feel safe, among people who always sing the same tune.” To “reach the heart of the city, we must cultivate the awareness that truth is symphonic and always transcends us, and we must cultivate the desire to encounter the Risen One, who always goes before us—and perhaps is already present where we have not yet sought him. For this reason, seeking and following him is the condition for pointing to him: otherwise, there is no evangelization.”

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