Pope Francis called “Lac Stay. Anne Pilgrimage” and Lac Stay. Anne attended the Liturgy of the Word, where she said that “the best way to help another person is not to immediately give him what he wants, but to support him, to love him, Invite to donate”.
Below is Pope Francis’ full sermon:
Dear brothers and sisters, Aaba-Dho-Dho! Tansy! Fine! [¡buenos días!]
It is beautiful to me that I am here, a pilgrim with you and in your midst. These days, especially today, wherever I went, I was struck by the sound of the drum. This beat of the drum seemed to me to echo the beats of many hearts. Hearts that have trembled in these waters for centuries; Hearts of so many pilgrims who together set the pace to reach this “Lake of God”. Here you can catch the choral heartbeat of a pilgrim people, generations who have set out on their way to experience the healing work of the Lord. How many longing and weary hearts came here, burdened by the burden of life, and with these waters found solace and strength to move on! Here too, immersed in creation, there is another heartbeat that we can hear, the beating of the earth’s mother heart. And just as babies’ heartbeats from the womb sync up with those of their mothers, to grow as human beings we need to match the rhythm of life with the rhythms of creation that give us life. So, let’s go back to the sources of our lives: to God, to the parents and, on that day and in the house of Saint Anne, to the grandparents, whom I warmly greet.
Inspired by these vital beats, we are here now, in silence, we contemplate the waters of this lake. It also helps us return to the sources of faith. This allows us to make a perfect pilgrimage to the holy places. Imagine that Jesus developed a large part of his ministry on the shores of the Sea of Galilee. There he chose and called apostles, there he proclaimed the blessed words, there he narrated most of the parables, gave signs and remedies. On the other hand, that lake formed the “Nations of Galilee” (Mt 4,15), a peripheral region, the heart of commerce, where different populations gathered, coloring the region with different traditions and creeds. It was the geographically and culturally farthest place of religious purity, centered in Jerusalem next to the Temple. So we can imagine the lake, then called the Sea of Galilee, as a concentration of differences. On its banks were fishermen and tax collectors, centurions and slaves, Pharisees and the poor, men and women of the most diverse origins and social backgrounds. There, right there, Jesus preached the kingdom of God. Not for pre-selected religious people, but for various peoples who, as today, came from different parts, he preached in welcoming all and in such a natural theatre. God chose this multifaceted and contrasting context to announce something revolutionary to the world: for example “Turn the other cheek, love your enemies, be God’s children as brothers, the father who casts the sun over good and evil.” rises up and pours rain on the righteous and the unjust” (cf. Mt 5:38-48). Thus, the exact same lake, “mixed with diversity”, was the site of an unprecedented declaration of fraternity, a revolution without death or injury, a revolution of love. And here, on the banks of this lake, the sound of drums crossing centuries and uniting different peoples takes us back to that time. It reminds us that brotherhood is true if it unites distant peoples, that the message of unity that heaven sends to earth is not afraid of differences and invites us to start together, to begin together. because we are all pilgrims along the way.
Brothers, sisters, pilgrims of these waters, what can we take from them? The Word of God helps us find it. The prophet Ezekiel twice reiterated that the waters flowing from the temple “give life” and “heal” for God’s people (cf. Ez 47,8-9).
They give life. I think of the grandmothers who are here with us. Dear Grandmothers, Your hearts are fountains from which the living water of faith pours out, from which You have quenched the thirst of your children and grandchildren. I admire the important role women play in Indigenous communities. They hold a very prominent place as the blessed sources of life, not only physical but also spiritual. And, thinking of her kokum, I think of my grandmother. From him I received my first declaration of faith and learned that this is how the gospel is transmitted through the tenderness of care and the wisdom of life. Faith is rarely born by reading a book alone in a room, but spread in a family environment, transmitted in the language of mothers, by the melodious spoken songs of grandmothers. I am happy to see so many grandparents and great-grandparents here. Thank you, I appreciate it, and I want to say to everyone who has elderly people at home, in the family, you have a treasure! They guard the source of life within their walls, please take care of them as the most valuable inheritance for love and protection.
The prophet said that water heals besides giving life. This aspect takes us to the shores of the Sea of Galilee, where Jesus “healed many who were sick and suffering from various ailments” (Mark 1:34). There, “at sunset, all the sick brought him” (v. 32). This afternoon let us imagine ourselves around the lake with Jesus, as he approaches, bows down and, with patience, compassion and tenderness, heals so many sick in body and spirit: demonic, lepers , paralyzed, blind, but also people who are suffering, discouraged, harm and hurt. Jesus has come and is still coming to take care of us, to comfort and heal our lonely and weary humanity. He extended the same invitation to all of us, including us: “Come to me, all weary and burdened people, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28). Or, as we heard in this afternoon lesson: “Whoever is thirsty, let him come to me and drink” (John 7:37).
Brothers and sisters, we all need the healing of Jesus, the healer of soul and body. Lord, just as the people of the Sea of Galilee were not afraid to cry out for their needs, so, Lord, this afternoon we come to you with the pain that we inflict. We bring to you our dryness and our hardships, the pains of violence faced by our indigenous brothers and sisters. In this blessed place, where harmony and peace reign, we present to you the anomalies of our history, the horrific effects of colonialism, the indelible suffering of so many families, grandparents and children. Lord help us to heal our wounds. We know that this requires effort, care and concerted action on our part. But we also know, Lord, that we cannot do it alone. We entrust ourselves to the intercession of you and your mother and grandmother.
Because mother and grandmother help heal the wounds of the heart. During the play of Victory, it was Our Lady of Guadalupe who transmitted honest faith to the indigenous people, speaking their language, wearing their costumes, without violence and without stigma. And, shortly after, with the advent of the printing press, the first grammars and catechisms were published in indigenous languages. What a great job the missionaries have done in this regard, preaching authentically to preserve indigenous languages and cultures in many parts of the world! In Canada, this “maternal rite” performed by the work of St. Anne united indigenous traditions and the beauty of the faith, and shaped them with the wisdom of a grandmother who is a mother of two. Church is also a woman, she is a mother. In fact, there has never been a time in its history when faith was not communicated in the mother tongue, by mothers and grandmothers. Part of the painful legacy we are facing is because of preventing indigenous grandmothers from transmitting faith in their language and culture. This loss is certainly a tragedy, but your presence here is proof of resilience and resumption, a pilgrimage toward healing, opening our hearts to God who heals our community. Today we all, as a church, need healing, we need to heal from the temptation to close ourselves, to choose the defense of the institution rather than the pursuit of truth, evangelical service to earthly power. to give priority to. Let us help each other, dear brothers and sisters, with God’s help, to contribute to the building of a Mother Church as He wishes: able to embrace each son and daughter; open to all and who speaks to everyone; Do not go against anyone, but go to meet everyone.
The crowd that had gathered around Jesus on the Sea of Galilee was mainly made up of ordinary people, ordinary people who brought him their needs and their wounds. In the same way, if we want to care for and fix the lives of our communities, we can only start with the poor, the marginalised. Too often we allow ourselves to be guided by the interests of a few affluent; The peripheries need to see more and to hear the cry of the last, it is necessary to know how to welcome the pain of those who, often in our overcrowded and impersonal cities, cry in silence: “Don’t leave us alone”. It is the cries of elders who are in danger of dying alone at home or left in a structure, or of uncomfortable patients who are given death instead of affection. More question-and-answer than heard is dominated by boys and girls, who surrender their freedom to mobile phones, while their other comrades are lost in the same streets, some faint from fun, addictions The captives of those who make them sad and dissatisfied, unable to believe in themselves, to love who they are and the beauty of their lives. Don’t leave us alone is the cry of those who want a better world but don’t know where to start.
Jesus, who heals us and comforts us with the living waters of his Spirit, asks us in the gospel this afternoon, from the breast of those who believe, “rivers of living water” (cf. v. 38) Asks him. And we, do we know how to quench the thirst of our brothers and sisters? While we keep asking God for consolation, do we even know how to give it to others? How often do we free ourselves from so many internal burdens, for example, from not feeling loved and respected, when we end up loving others unnecessarily. In our loneliness and discontent, Jesus exhorts us to go out, to give, to love. And then, I ask myself: What do I do for the people who need me? Seeing the tribals, thinking about their stories and the pain they have gone through, what should I do for them? Do I listen with worldly curiosity and am struck by what happened in the past, or do I do something concrete for them? Do I pray, read, inform myself, draw closer, allow myself to be influenced by their stories? And, looking at myself, if I find myself suffering, do I listen to Jesus who wants to take me out of the circle of my resentment and make me start again, overcome it, love invites? Sometimes the best way to help another person is not to immediately give them what they want, but to go with them, invite them to love, give of themselves. Because in this way, he will be able to do good to others, that he will discover his own rivers of living water, that he will discover the unique and valuable treasure that he himself is.
Dear indigenous brothers and sisters, I have also come as a pilgrim to tell you how precious you are to me and the Church. I want the church to be intertwined among us with the same strength and unity as the threads of the colored stripes that many of you wear. May the Lord help us move forward in the healing process, toward a future that is increasingly healthy and renewed. I think it would be their grandmother’s wish too. Saints Joaquin and Anna, Grandparents of Jesus, bless your path.