I welcome Pope Leo XIV’s Message on peace as a timely and necessary word for the moment we are living. Not because it offers quick solutions or simple answers, but because it refuses to accept resignation as the final horizon of history. In a global climate marked by ongoing wars, growing fragmentation, and the dangerous idea that war is an inevitable tool of politics, the Pope’s message calls everyone – without exception – to a shared responsibility: not to give up on the work of peace, even when it feels fragile, distant, or unrealistic.
For many, speaking about peace today may seem out of place. In many parts of the world, most painfully in the Holy Land, violence has carved deep wounds, both physical and symbolic, making it hard even to imagine another future. And yet, giving up on peace would mean accepting war as the “normal language” in human and international relations. The Message of the Pope does not turn away from the gravity of the situation, but refuses to let it have the last word.
Nowhere is this tension more emblematic than in the Holy Land. There, war has not only demolished cities, it has left scars on people’s consciences, poisoned language, and weakened the ability to see the other not as an enemy, but as a partner in dialogue. The trauma risks locking people into a cycle of victimhood versus victimhood, making reconciliation seem more remote with each passing day. In this context, it is crucial to remember: ending violence, though urgent and necessary, is not automatically the same as the beginning of peace.
As Pope Leo XIV reminds us, peace is not a moment. It is not simply the outcome of a ceasefire or a treaty. It is a long and difficult process – prone to failure – that demands time, patience, and consistency. Above all, it requires deep work on our consciences, our relationships, and the systems that govern how we live together. Without this inner and structural transformation, even the most sophisticated political solutions will remain fragile and reversible.
From this perspective, peace must not be reduced to a slogan or treated as an accessory objective. Peace becomes a criterion by which to judge political choices and institutional responsibilities. Where the dignity of the human person is sacrificed to the logic of self-interest, of security understood in an exclusive sense, or of immediate consensus, peace is undermined at its root. There is no lasting peace without justice – but there is no real justice unless the other is recognized as a person, not a tool or an obstacle.
Pope Leo XIV also highlights the irreplaceable role of the international community. It is not enough to intervene when conflicts erupt or to limit oneself to managing humanitarian emergencies. It is necessary to accompany processes of social, institutional, and cultural reconstruction, by supporting educational paths, spaces for dialogue, and policies capable of looking beyond the short term. To invest in peace is to accept that the results will not be immediate, but will concern the future of the generations to come.
In all of this, the religious dimension must not be ignored. In many conflict zones, religion is deeply tied to identity and collective memory. It can be misused to justify violence – but it can also offer powerful resources for reconciliation. Pope Leo XIV’s message calls religious communities to a particular responsibility: to safeguard a language that does not fuel fear or hatred, but opens the way to conversion, responsibility, and the recognition of the dignity of every human being.
Jerusalem, in this sense, remains a powerful and dramatic symbol. To reduce it to a mere object of contention, or to claim it as the exclusive possession of a single identity, is to betray its deepest vocation. It continues to challenge the international community on the very possibility of coexistence founded on mutual respect and the recognition of the other.
Within this context lies the witness of the Church in the Holy Land: small and fragile, without political power, yet called to safeguard a vision of humanity that makes peace possible. To be the Church here is to keep spaces of dialogue open, to reject the logic of exclusive belonging, and to continue to believe in reconciliation, even when it appears humanly unrealistic.
To welcome Pope Leo XIV’s message is not to indulge in naïve optimism. Rather, it is to embrace a demanding hope. A hope that does not deny the reality of wounds, trauma, and fear, but refuses to let them have the final word. To continue speaking of peace and working for it remains, today, an act of both moral and political responsibility. To abandon this task would be tantamount to accepting war as the permanent horizon of history. To keep seeking peace, instead, is to remain faithful to God, to humanity, and to humanity’s deepest calling.
