Illustration:The Mystical Supper, Russian Orthodox icon, 1497
Pope Leo’s homily at Holy Thursday Chrism Mass
(During the ceremony, the holy oils used for sacraments and rituals are blessed or consecrated)
St Peter’s Basilica – Holy Thursday, 2 April 2026
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Gospel Reading for Chrism Mass. (Luke 4:16.21)
And he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up; and he went to the synagogue, as his custom was, on the sabbath day He stood up to read; and there was given to him the book of the prophet Isaiah.
He opened the book and found the place where it was written, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord.”
And he closed the book, and gave it back to the attendant, and sat down; and the eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him. 21 And he began to say to them, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”
Pope Leo’s Homily,
Dear brothers and sisters,
We are now on the threshold of the Easter Triduum.
Once again, the Lord will guide us to the culmination of his mission, so that his passion, death and resurrection may become the core of our mission.
What we are about to relive, in fact, possesses the power to transform what human pride generally tends to harden: our identity and our place in the world.
Jesus’s freedom changes hearts, heals wounds, refreshes and brightens our faces, reconciles and gathers us together, and forgives and raises us up.
In my first year presiding over the Chrism Mass as Bishop of Rome, I would like to reflect with you on our mission God’s people.
It is the Christian mission, – the same mission that Jesus had.
Each of us participates in it according to our own vocation, obeying the voice of the Spirit in a deeply personal way. Yet, we never do so without others, nor do we ever neglect or break communion!
As we bishops and priests renew our promises, we dedicate ourselves to serving a missionary people.
Together with all the baptized, we are the Body of Christ, anointed by his Spirit of freedom and consolation, the Spirit of prophecy and unity.
What Jesus experiences at the culminating moments of his mission is foreshadowed by the passage from Isaiah, which he quoted in the synagogue at Nazareth as the word that is fulfilled “today” (Luke 4:21 “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”).
Indeed, at the hour of Easter, it becomes definitively clear that God consecrates in order to send.
“He has sent me” (Luke 4:18), says Jesus, describing that movement which binds his Body to the poor, to prisoners, to those groping in the dark and to those who are oppressed.
We, as members of his Body, speak of a Church that is “apostolic,” sent out, driven beyond itself, and consecrated to God in the service of his creatures.
“As the Father has sent me, so I send you” (John 20:21).
We know that being sent means, above all, detachment: the risk of leaving behind the familiar and the certain to venture into the new.
Interestingly, after being baptized in the Jordan, Jesus returned to Galilee with the power of the Spirit and came to Nazareth, where he had been raised.
This is the place he must now leave behind.
He moves “as was his custom” (v. 16), but to usher in a new era.
He must leave the village permanently so that what took root there, Sabbath after Sabbath, through faithful listening to the Word of God, can bear fruit.
Likewise, he will call others to set out and take risks so that no place becomes a prison and no identity becomes a hiding place.
Dear friends,
W follow Jesus who “did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself” (Philippians 2:6-7 – Christ, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, 7 but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men).
Every mission begins with a kind of self-emptying that allows for rebirth.
Our dignity as sons and daughters of God cannot be taken from us or lost. However, the affections, places, and experiences of the beginning of our lives cannot be erased either.
We are heirs to so much goodness, as well as the limitations of a history into which the Gospel must bring light, salvation, forgiveness, and healing.
Therefore, there is no mission without reconciling with our past and the gifts and limitations of our upbringing. However, there is no peace without setting out, no awareness without detachment, and no joy without risk.
We are the body of Christ when we move forward and come to terms with the past without being imprisoned by it. Everything is restored and multiplied when we let go without fear.
This is a fundamental secret of mission.
It is not something that is experienced just once, but in every new beginning, in every new sending forth.
Jesus’ journey reveals that losing and emptying oneself is, not an end in itself, but rather a condition for encounter and intimacy.
True love requires little fuss or ostentation and gently cherishes weakness and vulnerability.
We struggle to commit to a mission that exposes us in this way. Yet, there is no “good news for the poor” if we go to them bearing signs of power. Nor is there authentic liberation unless we free ourselves from attachment.
This brings us to a second secret of the Christian mission.
After detachment comes the law of encounter.
Throughout history, the mission has often been distorted by a desire for domination, which is entirely foreign to the way of Jesus Christ.
St. John Paul II recognized that, because of our connection to one another in the Mystical Body, we all bear the burden of the errors and faults of those who came before us, though we are not personally responsible and do not encroach on God’s judgment, which alone knows every heart.
Consequently, it is now more important than ever to remember that abuse of power cannot produce good, whether in the pastoral, social, or political spheres.
Great missionaries bear witness to quiet, unobtrusive approaches. They share life, provide selfless service, renounce any calculated strategy, engage in dialogue, and show respect.
This is the way of the Incarnation, which always takes the form of inculturation.
Salvation can only be received through one’s native language.
“How is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language? Acts 2:8).
The surprise of Pentecost is repeated when we do not presume to control God’s timing, but place our trust in the Holy Spirit, who “is present, even today, as in the time of Jesus and the Apostles: is present and at work, arriving before us, working harder than us and better than us; it is not for us to sow or awaken him, but first and foremost to recognize him, welcome him, go along with him, make way for him, and follow him.
He is present and has never lost heart regarding our times; on the contrary, he smiles, dances, penetrates, engulfs, envelops, and reaches even where we would never have imagined.” Cardinal Martini, Three Tales of the Spirit
In order to achieve harmony with the transcendent, we must approach our assignments with simplicity and respect the mysteries within each person and community.
As Christians, we are guests.
This is true even if we are bishops, priests, or religious sisters and brothers.
In order to be hosts, we must first learn to be guests.
Even the places where secularization seems most advanced are not lands to be conquered or reconquered: “New cultures are constantly being born in these vast new expanses where Christians are no longer the customary interpreters or generators of meaning. Instead, they themselves take from these cultures new languages, symbols, messages and paradigms which propose new approaches to life, approaches often in contrast with the Gospel of Jesus…
It must reach the places where new narratives and paradigms are being formed, bringing the word of Jesus to the inmost soul of our cities.”
This happens only if we walk together as the Church, if mission is not a heroic adventure reserved for a few, but the living witness of a Body with many members.
A third dimension of the Christian mission exists, perhaps the most radical.
It involves the dramatic possibility of misunderstanding and rejection, as seen in the violent reaction of the people of Nazareth to Jesus’s words.
“When they heard this, everyone in the synagogue was filled with rage. They stood up, drove him out of town, and led him to the edge of the hill on which their town was built so they could throw him off the cliff” (Luke 4:28-29).
Although this part was omitted from the liturgical reading, what we are about to celebrate this evening calls on us not to flee but to “pass through” the trial, just as Jesus did. Jesus “passed through the midst of them and went on his way.” (Luke 4:30).
The cross is part of the mission: the sending becomes more bitter and frightening, but also more freeing and transformative.
The imperialist occupation of the world is thus disrupted from within; the violence that until now has been the law is unmasked.
The poor, imprisoned, rejected Messiah descends into the darkness of death, yet in so doing he brings a new creation to light.
How many “resurrections” are we called to experience when we free ourselves from a defensive attitude and immerse ourselves in service, like a seed in the earth? In life, we may face situations where everything seems to be over.
We then ask ourselves if our mission has been in vain.
While it is true that we also experience failures stemming from our own shortcomings or those of others—often from a tangled web of responsibilities of light and shadow—we can make the hope of many witnesses our own.
I recall one person who is particularly dear to me.
A month before his death, in his notebook for the Spiritual Exercises, the holy Bishop Óscar Romero wrote: ‘The nuncio in Costa Rica has warned me of an imminent danger this very week… These unforeseen circumstances will be faced with God’s grace. Jesus Christ helped the martyrs and, if the need arises, I shall feel him very close when I entrust my last breath to him. But, more than the final moment of life, what matters is to give him one’s whole life and to live for him… It is enough for me, to be happy and confident, to know with certainty that in him is my life and my death; that, despite my sins, I have placed my trust in him and I shall not be disheartened, for others will continue, with greater wisdom and holiness, the work for the Church and for the homeland.”
Dear sisters and brothers,
The saints make history.
This is the message of Revelation: “Grace and peace to you from God, who is, who was, and who is to come, and from the seven spirits before his throne” (Revelation 1:4).
This greeting encapsulates Jesus’s journey in a world torn apart by the powers that ravage it.
Within it, a new people arise—not of victims, but of witnesses.
In this dark hour of history, God has sent us to spread the fragrance of Christ where death reigns.
Let us renew our “yes” to this mission that calls for unity and brings peace. Yes, we are here!
Let us overcome our feelings of powerlessness and fear!
We proclaim your death and resurrection as we await your coming, O Lord.
