Diaconal Ordinations
Jerusalem, St. Ann's, Nov. 29, 2025
Acts, 6, 1-7; Rom 12, 8-16; Jn 21, 1.15-17
Dear brothers and sisters,
dearly beloved ordaining brothers,
may the Lord give you peace.
Today our Church experiences a moment of great joy: the Lord is calling these brothers of ours to become deacons, servants of the Gospel and the community. This day comes after years of study, discernment, trials, and consolations, but above all, after years in which the Lord has patiently knocked on the door of your hearts. Throughout these years, certainly not without some difficulties at times, you have always confirmed your “here I am.”
The ministry you receive today does not arise from personal merit or any particular skill. You are not here because you are better than others, but because you were loved first. It is the Lord who has looked at you, called you, and chosen you. This awareness will accompany you throughout your life: the real protagonist is not you, but Him.
The readings we have heard clearly illuminate your path.
The first reading, from the Acts of the Apostles, takes us to the origins of the diaconate. The community is growing, tensions and complaints arise, and the apostles realize they cannot neglect anyone. So, they call on the Spirit and choose men “of good repute, full of the Spirit and of wisdom.” This is how the diaconal ministry was born: not to add figures or fill roles, but to guard the unity of the community and to serve with practicality those in danger of being forgotten.
The deacon is the one who enables the Church to remain Church. He sees people, not problems; he recognizes faces, not categories; he welcomes frailties, not labels. He is the one who keeps the heart of the community open. As the end of the passage reminds us, when this happens “the Word of God spread”: mission comes from service.
In his letter to the Romans, Saint Paul describes the style of the minister. It is not a moral checklist – as we sometimes risk reducing the Christian life to – but rather the portrait of a life transformed by the love of Christ. “Let love be genuine”: the deacon is called to live sincerely and transparently, not with a double life or one built on roles or appearances. “Be aglow, fervent in spirit”: service is not philanthropy, but a fire that comes from prayer. “Contribute to the needs of the saints”: the deacon is a man of closeness and tenderness, one who notices and stops. “Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep”: this is perhaps the most beautiful image of your ministry – being close to others without judging, sharing their lives. In this way, not with words but with your presence, you will proclaim that God is close to every wounded heart.
We have experienced this especially in this very difficult period in the life of our Church and our Holy Land. Where we could not solve problems, but also where we could do something, closeness and sharing mattered more than what could be done. Recognizing the dignity of each person and loving them.
Instead, the Gospel brings us to the shore of the lake, where we witness a dialogue between Jesus and Peter that touches the heart of ministry. Jesus does not ask Peter for explanations, does not hold his denial against him, and does not demand performance or results; he asks only one thing, three times: “Do you love me?” In that question, so simple yet so profound, Peter discovers the truth about himself: a fragile man, capable of falling, even of betraying and denying, but also capable of weeping and allowing himself to be forgiven.
This is where true ministry is born: not from strength, but from frailty inhabited by God; not from ability, but from forgiveness accepted; not from courage, but from a relationship that never fails. Jesus does not erase Peter’s sin; he goes through it with him. And right there, in that place where shame is transformed into love, he entrusts him with the greatest task: “Feed my sheep.”
Thus, beloved, the Lord entrusts his Church to you today. He says to you: if you have experienced my mercy, you can be ministers of mercy; if you have known my compassion, you can show compassion to others; if you have let yourself be loved in your limitation, you can serve with humility and without fear.
The deacon is a man of the apron, not of the throne. He serves at the altar because he knows how to serve in life. He is a man of the Word, proclaiming what he first heard and pondered in secret. He is a man of charity, who leaves no one on the sidelines. But above all, he is the man who remains rooted in this question: “Do you love me?” For from this question we begin each day.
Beloved, the Church today embraces you and entrusts this ministry to you with confidence. Do not be afraid to be small, for the Lord loves to work through what is humble. Guard your relationship with him in daily prayer, in the Eucharist, and in listening to the Word. And when fatigue, discouragement, or disappointment knocks at your door – as it does for everyone – remember Peter. Remember that the Lord will never ask if you have been perfect, but only if you have tried to love and serve him with your heart.
We pray today that your “yes” will always remain alive, humble, and trusting. May your lives become a reflection of God’s tenderness for his people. And through your ministry, may many discover that the Lord never tires of loving us and calling us.
May the Lord, who began this good work in you, bring it to completion. And may the Blessed Virgin, Mother of the Church, intercede for each of you and sustain you in your ministry.
Amen.
