Today is the Optional Memorial of St. Pontian, Pope, and St. Hippolytus, Priest; Martyrs
St. Pontian was Bishop of Rome from 230 – 236 A.D. St. Hippolytus, a prominent theologian, was a theological opponent and rival of several of Pontian’s predecessors and of Pontian himself. Hippolytus criticized them regarding their understanding of the Trinity and what he considered their lax policies regarding penance. When Maximinus I became emperor in 235 he persecuted heads of the Church. He banished both men to the island of Sardinia. When he was sent to Sardinia, St. Pontian resigned as Bishop of Rome so someone else could be elected. St. Hippolytus reconciled with Rome. Both men suffered inhumane treatment and death in the mines of Sardinia and they are celebrated together as holy martyrs in the Church. Pope Fabian (236-250) had their remains brought back from Sardinia and buried in Rome. [1][2]
Written by Sarah Ciotti
Reviewed by Fr. Hugh Feiss, OSB, STD
[1] Catholicpedia: The Original Catholic Encyclopedia (1917) for iPhone, iPad, and iPod Touch. s.v. “Pope St. Pontian. ”
[2] Catholicpedia: The Original Catholic Encyclopedia (1917) for iPhone, iPad, and iPod Touch. s.v. “St. Hippolytus of Rome.”
y
Part 34 of our summer slow read of Pope Leo's wonderful encyclical
ENCYCLICAL LETTER
MAGNIFICA HUMANITAS
OF HIS HOLINESS
MAGNIFICA HUMANITAS
OF HIS HOLINESS
POPE LEO XIV
ON SAFEGUARDING THE HUMAN PERSON
IN THE TIME OF ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE
227. In the international context, the Holy See’s diplomacy adopts the Gospel’s principle of mercy as a concrete criterion for political action. This is one of the ways in which the Holy See places itself at the service of humanity, thereby appealing to consciences in the name of charity and truth, defending the dignity of every person and speaking up on behalf of the poor, migrants and victims of war. In this way, papal diplomacy expresses the catholicity of the Church and contributes to the building of a civilization of love, where even new technologies can be oriented toward the common good.
Praying and hoping
228. These avenues for exercising responsibility are sustained by prayer, and in turn nourish prayer. Indeed, for each of us, peace primarily comes “from God, God who loves us all, unconditionally.” [203] It is a gift given by Jesus to his disciples on the day of Easter: “Peace be with you! It is the peace of the risen Christ. A peace that is unarmed and disarming, humble and persevering.” [204] With these words, I greeted the Church and the world on the day of my election to the See of Peter. I wish to repeat them now, and to invite everyone to pray for this gift. Let us never tire of praying for peace and of committing ourselves to achieving it in our relationships and in society.
CONCLUSION
229. “Let each builder choose with care how to build” (1 Cor 3:10). With these words, Saint Paul encouraged the Christians of Corinth to preserve unity. Dear brothers and sisters, we have reflected on the world we are building, and we asked ourselves what it means to safeguard the human person in the era of artificial intelligence. At the end of this reflection, I would like to propose a sober yet demanding program of Christian life with which we can navigate this epochal change in the light of the Gospel. This avenue emerges through contemplating God’s plan, living ecclesial unity by partaking of the Eucharist, building a world centered on the common good and praying in union with the Blessed Virgin Mary.
The Word became flesh
230. Our world is filled with attempts to seize control of markets and spheres of influence, often shrouded in reassuring rhetoric and seductive ideologies. Yet our hearts yearn for an approach that is wise and benevolent, akin to that which Mary praises in her Magnificat, when she proclaims that God’s mercy extends in every generation to those who fear him. [205] This plan of mercy continues to unfold throughout history today, even amid the rapid and unsettling changes brought by algorithms and global networks, and it becomes a compass in the digital era for living our lives according to the Gospel.
231. At the heart of everything is the mystery of the Incarnation, the Word who became flesh and dwelt among us. The flesh of the Son, poor and vulnerable, evokes the flesh of so many brothers and sisters stripped of their dignity and reduced to silence. [206] Through the Lord’s closeness, the gift of peace enters into the world in a paradoxical way. It does so through the power to become children of God, and is awakened when we allow ourselves to be moved by the tears of the little ones, the fragility of the elderly, the silence of victims and the struggle of those who fight against the evil they do not wish to commit. [207] In this wounded yet beloved flesh, the Father shows us the true humanity of a life fulfilled through openness and communion, which leads us to desire that his will be done on earth as it is in heaven. [208]
232. In the promises of transhumanism and some posthumanist currents of thought, which seek an enhanced and almost disembodied humanity, we recognize a yearning that is of concern to us, namely the need for a fuller life, less exposed to limitations and suffering. Yet the Incarnation opens a different pathway. On the one hand, old and new ideologies alike urge humanity to overcome limitations through technology, and to rise above others by asserting dominance. Contrary to this, the mystery of the Son of God entering into our human condition promises something quite different. The living God descends into our history in order to free us from all forms of slavery. [209] He takes upon himself our weakness and transforms it into a setting for salvation. There is no moment or human situation that is not worthy of God. “According to the teaching of our faith, we have and adore, in our mysteries, a God who is born in a manger, a God who lives and travels in Judea, a God who dies on the cross, a dead God who lies in the tomb.” [210] The future of humanity, therefore, finds its standard in the ability to welcome this divine way of drawing near, of sharing the burden of the world, of transforming relationships from within. “O wonder... man is God and this God-Man passes through all those stages, endures all those states and ennobles them, sanctifies them, deifies them in himself!” [211] What saves humanity is the divine love that descends into the most fragile point of our history and renews it from within.
233. For this reason, as a believer among believers, I invite everyone to contemplate, in the face of the Son of God, the grandeur of humanity that shines a light also on the era of AI. In Christ, we are called to cooperate in the work of creation, rather than be disinterested observers of technological processes that limit our freedom and responsibility. [212] The dignity inscribed in each of us by the Holy Spirit can also be seen in our capacity to reflect critically, choose and love freely, and form authentic relationships. No computational system, however sophisticated, can create a heart that gives itself, or a conscience that discerns good from evil. Even when machines excel in efficiency, a human face that asks to be gazed upon remains the center of our history. This human face is the fullness toward which history is moving. It is the mystery of “recapitulation”: the certainty that the Father has decreed to bring all things, those in heaven and those on earth, back to Christ, the one Head (cf. Eph 1:10). In this plan, nothing will be lost that is authentically human. Indeed, everything will be purified and reunited in the One, who gathers every fragment of life, every tear and every authentically human achievement, rescuing them from nothingness and delivering them, redeemed, to the Father.
One body in Christ
234. The spirituality that we need is a Eucharistic spirituality, that is, a spirituality of ecclesial unity in love. The Incarnation and the Paschal Mystery reveal God entering into our human condition and transforming it through the gift of himself. This gift remains present and active in the Eucharist, in which the Lord gives himself and gathers the Church together, so that his offering becomes the principle of unity and source of new life. It is from this communion that Christian solidarity also arises, since “union with Christ is also union with all those to whom he gives himself.” [213] As Saint Augustine explained to the new Christians of his local Church, the bread and wine on the altar are the sacrament of the unity of the faithful in Christ: “What is seen is a mere physical likeness; what is grasped bears spiritual fruit. So now, if you want to understand the body of Christ, listen to the Apostle Paul speaking to the faithful: together you are the body of Christ ( 1 Cor 12:27). If you are the body and members of Christ, then it is your sacrament that is placed on the table of the Lord; it is your sacrament that you receive. You respond ‘Amen,’ and by responding in this way you assent to it. For you hear the words, ‘the Body of Christ’ and respond ‘Amen.’ Be then a member of the Body of Christ that your Amen may be true!” [214]
235. The “Amen” that we say in the liturgy, the Body we eat and the Blood we drink shape our entire lives. The Eucharist “is an extremely personal encounter with the Lord and yet never simply an act of individual piety.” [215] In the Eucharist we find a visible manifestation of the reality that we “are the Church of Christ, his members, his body. We are brothers and sisters in him. And in Christ, though many and diverse, we are one: In Illo uno unum.” [216] The Eucharist opens us to justice and sharing, with a preferential concern for those who are burdened by poverty or marginalization. And while new economic and technological networks can generate exclusion, isolation and dependencies, the Church — nourished by the Eucharist — is called to make visible a different paradigm, one that preserves human connections, gives a voice to the invisible and ensures that processes are aimed at respecting people’s dignity.
The construction site of our time
236. The spirituality I wish to commend is that of the “wise architect” who, driven by hope for the Kingdom of God, is committed to building the world for the common good (cf. 1 Cor 3:10). As I mentioned at the beginning of this reflection, [217] the task of building in our time must place our relationship with God at its center. Our rule must be the acceptance of human limitations as a natural and positive reality, and should be characterized by shared responsibility and a language characterized by the Gospel. At the end of this reflection, the plan for a civilization of love can be seen more clearly, and the construction site appears to be already up and running, thanks especially to the many living stones solidly united to Christ the cornerstone (cf. 1 Pet 2:4-6). In this task, we are called to assume an active role, without taking refuge in spiritual sentimentality or retreating into our own little worlds. We must be faithful to the truth, invest in education, cultivate relationships and love justice and peace.
237. Let us remain faithful to the truth! Living amid incessant flows of information, opinions and images, we know how easy it can be to influence decisions and preferences through increasingly sophisticated algorithms. [218] In this context, it is imperative to cultivate hearts that love the truth, prefer what is right despite the most appealing content and pursue wisdom rather than immediate results. We must always keep before us the truth about God and humanity, just as Christ has revealed them to us. We must lay aside an individualistic and technical view of humanity, as if reality were mere matter to be shaped according to selfish interests, whether individual or collective. [219] Instead, let us cultivate what Pope Francis called a “situated anthropocentrism,” [220] which recognizes the human being as a creature embedded in a network of relationships with other living beings and with all of creation. Fidelity to the truth requires integrating the possibilities offered by technology within a framework marked by wisdom, which is capable of safeguarding both the dignity of each person and the future of our common home.
238. Let us invest in education, beginning with ourselves! We all need to learn how to engage with the digital world in a human way, as an integral part of our education in the faith and in a life lived according to the Gospel. Indeed, we must consider the digital world as a new continent to be evangelized, one that requires generous missionaries who are mature in the faith. In a particular way, we need adults to rediscover their vocation as artisans of education, prepared to work patiently each day, with the support of extensive and shared educational partnerships. Today, accompanying children and young people in using technology for developing responsible relationships, helping them to recognize the risks and choose what fosters inner freedom, is a concrete form of charity and will safeguard their dignity. Teaching new generations that technological evolution does not follow a predetermined path, but can be guided by personal and collective responsibility, constitutes one of the most valuable services to the common good.
239. Let us cultivate relationships! In an era that favors speed and fragmentation, the human person still yearns to receive care and recognition from attentive minds, kind words and hands capable of tenderness. The digital culture multiplies connections and offers new opportunities for interaction; yet, the human heart retains an irrevocable need for genuine closeness. I invite everyone to cherish places and times where physical presence remains crucial, such as shared meals, Christian community gatherings, time spent with the lonely and serving the poor. These are signs of a humanity that continues to believe that every person’s body is a dwelling place of God and a temple of the Holy Spirit. It is precisely this covenant between glory and fragility that becomes the criterion for evaluating the anthropological models offered by contemporary culture.
240. Let us love justice and peace! The same technologies that facilitate communication and access to resources can also support models that exploit the most vulnerable, create new forms of slavery and derive profit from conflict. Every technical or economic decision should include spiritual discernment and be an opportunity for assessing whether the advances in AI are promoting justice and participation or concentrating wealth and power in the hands of a select few. I would encourage a careful examination of the supply chains of digital production, the working conditions hidden behind our devices and the mechanisms that profit from manipulation and war. At the same time, practical ways of fostering fairness, participation and care for creation must be found. We proclaim a hope rooted in the One who came down from heaven to “create a new story here below.” For this reason, those who believe are committed to ensuring that a greater justice will take the place of inequality, and that the industry of war will be replaced by the craft of peace. [221]
241. As we look to the future, I would like to recall the image of Nehemiah whom we chose as our companion and guide at the outset. Nehemiah heard the cry of a devastated city, brought that pain to prayer, discerned before God, asked for help, received permission to return, organized the work, confronted internal and external resistance and rebuilt the walls of Jerusalem with the assistance of the people, brick by brick. In this era of digital transformation, I see in him a striking parable of our own vocation, which is not to be passive spectators of social and cultural fractures, nor mere commentators on what is crumbling, but men and women prepared to enter the construction sites of history — research laboratories, technology companies, schools, the media, institutions and local communities — in order to rebuild what has collapsed and protect what is threatened. Like Nehemiah, we too are called to unite listening and courage, prayer and responsibility, so that, even when a technocratic mentality or partisan interests seem to prevail, the human city may become a more fitting place to live.
242. The image of rebuilding Jerusalem evokes the New Testament promise of the holy city, which is given to us first and foremost as a gift. In the Book of Revelation, the new Jerusalem descends as a gift for all God’s people, “prepared as a bride adorned for her husband” (Rev 21:2). The walls of Jerusalem are no longer defensive fortifications, but the precious adornments of the Bride of the Lamb. Its gates, which Nehemiah guarded so diligently, remain permanently open to all nations. God’s presence offers light and life to all. The city is a new Eden, with its living water offered to the thirsty, and its tree of life whose leaves “are for the healing of the nations” (Rev 22:2). As we await its fulfillment, this vision is set before us as an encouragement — a call to overcome our divisions and to work together — for this is the way of Jesus Christ, yesterday, today and forever.
The song of hope: the Magnificat
243. After having considered faith, which contemplates the Father’s loving plan; love, which unites us in one ecclesial body; and hope, which sustains our actions in the world, the fourth pillar of this program for Christian life is prayer. Mary’s song accompanies our commitment. Before Elizabeth who announces to her that she has become the mother of the Lord, Mary bursts into a hymn of praise and joy. Her soul magnifies the Lord, and her spirit rejoices in God her Savior, for he chose a young, poor and humble girl for his plan of salvation. Mary suddenly sees all of history through the lens of this revelation. Nothing has changed around her; the socio-political situation of her time remains the same. The Romans continue to control her land, and her people are still subjugated and humiliated. Yet, everything has changed within her, and this allows her to see what is invisible. God has already shown the strength of his arm; he has already scattered the proud, cast down the mighty, lifted up the lowly, filled the hungry with good things and sent the rich away empty-handed. He has already helped Israel, his servant. God “takes the part of the lowly. His plan is one that is often hidden beneath the opaque context of human events that see ‘the proud, the mighty and the rich’ triumph. Yet his secret strength is destined in the end to be revealed.” [222]
244. The Blessed Virgin Mary not only teaches us to recognize God’s invisible work, but also directs our gaze to “the points at which humanity is broken and the world becomes distorted: the contrast between the humble and the powerful, the poor and the rich, the satiated and the hungry,” teaching us “to look at the world from a lower position: through the eyes of those who suffer rather than the mighty; to view history through the eyes of the little ones, rather than through the perspective of the powerful; to interpret the events of history from the viewpoint of the widow, the orphan, the stranger, the wounded child, the exile and the fugitive.” [223] The Blessed Virgin thus becomes “poet and prophetess of Redemption,” because on her lips is proclaimed “the strongest and most innovative hymn ever articulated, the Magnificat; it is she who reveals the transformative vision of the Christian economy, the historical and social result that still draws its origin and strength from Christianity.” [224]
245. With the same faith as Mary, let us become “weavers of hope” in our world, sharing who we are and what we have, so that the presence of Jesus may grow among us and his Kingdom take shape. In the humble fidelity of daily life, even the era of AI can become a time in which the Holy Spirit brings about the civilization of love in our lives. Indeed, the Lord continues to make all things new and offers every era the possibility of becoming part of salvation history in the light of the Incarnation. I entrust our desire to the Mother of Christ, to the Woman of the Magnificat, that she may guide our steps through this time of change and preserve in each of us true faith in the Gospel, so that we may bear witness to the grandeur of humanity, in which God has made his dwelling.
Given in Rome, at Saint Peter’s, on 15 May, in the year 2026, the second of my Pontificate.
LEO PP. XIV
Praying and hoping
228. These avenues for exercising responsibility are sustained by prayer, and in turn nourish prayer. Indeed, for each of us, peace primarily comes “from God, God who loves us all, unconditionally.” [203] It is a gift given by Jesus to his disciples on the day of Easter: “Peace be with you! It is the peace of the risen Christ. A peace that is unarmed and disarming, humble and persevering.” [204] With these words, I greeted the Church and the world on the day of my election to the See of Peter. I wish to repeat them now, and to invite everyone to pray for this gift. Let us never tire of praying for peace and of committing ourselves to achieving it in our relationships and in society.
CONCLUSION
229. “Let each builder choose with care how to build” (1 Cor 3:10). With these words, Saint Paul encouraged the Christians of Corinth to preserve unity. Dear brothers and sisters, we have reflected on the world we are building, and we asked ourselves what it means to safeguard the human person in the era of artificial intelligence. At the end of this reflection, I would like to propose a sober yet demanding program of Christian life with which we can navigate this epochal change in the light of the Gospel. This avenue emerges through contemplating God’s plan, living ecclesial unity by partaking of the Eucharist, building a world centered on the common good and praying in union with the Blessed Virgin Mary.
The Word became flesh
230. Our world is filled with attempts to seize control of markets and spheres of influence, often shrouded in reassuring rhetoric and seductive ideologies. Yet our hearts yearn for an approach that is wise and benevolent, akin to that which Mary praises in her Magnificat, when she proclaims that God’s mercy extends in every generation to those who fear him. [205] This plan of mercy continues to unfold throughout history today, even amid the rapid and unsettling changes brought by algorithms and global networks, and it becomes a compass in the digital era for living our lives according to the Gospel.
231. At the heart of everything is the mystery of the Incarnation, the Word who became flesh and dwelt among us. The flesh of the Son, poor and vulnerable, evokes the flesh of so many brothers and sisters stripped of their dignity and reduced to silence. [206] Through the Lord’s closeness, the gift of peace enters into the world in a paradoxical way. It does so through the power to become children of God, and is awakened when we allow ourselves to be moved by the tears of the little ones, the fragility of the elderly, the silence of victims and the struggle of those who fight against the evil they do not wish to commit. [207] In this wounded yet beloved flesh, the Father shows us the true humanity of a life fulfilled through openness and communion, which leads us to desire that his will be done on earth as it is in heaven. [208]
232. In the promises of transhumanism and some posthumanist currents of thought, which seek an enhanced and almost disembodied humanity, we recognize a yearning that is of concern to us, namely the need for a fuller life, less exposed to limitations and suffering. Yet the Incarnation opens a different pathway. On the one hand, old and new ideologies alike urge humanity to overcome limitations through technology, and to rise above others by asserting dominance. Contrary to this, the mystery of the Son of God entering into our human condition promises something quite different. The living God descends into our history in order to free us from all forms of slavery. [209] He takes upon himself our weakness and transforms it into a setting for salvation. There is no moment or human situation that is not worthy of God. “According to the teaching of our faith, we have and adore, in our mysteries, a God who is born in a manger, a God who lives and travels in Judea, a God who dies on the cross, a dead God who lies in the tomb.” [210] The future of humanity, therefore, finds its standard in the ability to welcome this divine way of drawing near, of sharing the burden of the world, of transforming relationships from within. “O wonder... man is God and this God-Man passes through all those stages, endures all those states and ennobles them, sanctifies them, deifies them in himself!” [211] What saves humanity is the divine love that descends into the most fragile point of our history and renews it from within.
233. For this reason, as a believer among believers, I invite everyone to contemplate, in the face of the Son of God, the grandeur of humanity that shines a light also on the era of AI. In Christ, we are called to cooperate in the work of creation, rather than be disinterested observers of technological processes that limit our freedom and responsibility. [212] The dignity inscribed in each of us by the Holy Spirit can also be seen in our capacity to reflect critically, choose and love freely, and form authentic relationships. No computational system, however sophisticated, can create a heart that gives itself, or a conscience that discerns good from evil. Even when machines excel in efficiency, a human face that asks to be gazed upon remains the center of our history. This human face is the fullness toward which history is moving. It is the mystery of “recapitulation”: the certainty that the Father has decreed to bring all things, those in heaven and those on earth, back to Christ, the one Head (cf. Eph 1:10). In this plan, nothing will be lost that is authentically human. Indeed, everything will be purified and reunited in the One, who gathers every fragment of life, every tear and every authentically human achievement, rescuing them from nothingness and delivering them, redeemed, to the Father.
One body in Christ
234. The spirituality that we need is a Eucharistic spirituality, that is, a spirituality of ecclesial unity in love. The Incarnation and the Paschal Mystery reveal God entering into our human condition and transforming it through the gift of himself. This gift remains present and active in the Eucharist, in which the Lord gives himself and gathers the Church together, so that his offering becomes the principle of unity and source of new life. It is from this communion that Christian solidarity also arises, since “union with Christ is also union with all those to whom he gives himself.” [213] As Saint Augustine explained to the new Christians of his local Church, the bread and wine on the altar are the sacrament of the unity of the faithful in Christ: “What is seen is a mere physical likeness; what is grasped bears spiritual fruit. So now, if you want to understand the body of Christ, listen to the Apostle Paul speaking to the faithful: together you are the body of Christ ( 1 Cor 12:27). If you are the body and members of Christ, then it is your sacrament that is placed on the table of the Lord; it is your sacrament that you receive. You respond ‘Amen,’ and by responding in this way you assent to it. For you hear the words, ‘the Body of Christ’ and respond ‘Amen.’ Be then a member of the Body of Christ that your Amen may be true!” [214]
235. The “Amen” that we say in the liturgy, the Body we eat and the Blood we drink shape our entire lives. The Eucharist “is an extremely personal encounter with the Lord and yet never simply an act of individual piety.” [215] In the Eucharist we find a visible manifestation of the reality that we “are the Church of Christ, his members, his body. We are brothers and sisters in him. And in Christ, though many and diverse, we are one: In Illo uno unum.” [216] The Eucharist opens us to justice and sharing, with a preferential concern for those who are burdened by poverty or marginalization. And while new economic and technological networks can generate exclusion, isolation and dependencies, the Church — nourished by the Eucharist — is called to make visible a different paradigm, one that preserves human connections, gives a voice to the invisible and ensures that processes are aimed at respecting people’s dignity.
The construction site of our time
236. The spirituality I wish to commend is that of the “wise architect” who, driven by hope for the Kingdom of God, is committed to building the world for the common good (cf. 1 Cor 3:10). As I mentioned at the beginning of this reflection, [217] the task of building in our time must place our relationship with God at its center. Our rule must be the acceptance of human limitations as a natural and positive reality, and should be characterized by shared responsibility and a language characterized by the Gospel. At the end of this reflection, the plan for a civilization of love can be seen more clearly, and the construction site appears to be already up and running, thanks especially to the many living stones solidly united to Christ the cornerstone (cf. 1 Pet 2:4-6). In this task, we are called to assume an active role, without taking refuge in spiritual sentimentality or retreating into our own little worlds. We must be faithful to the truth, invest in education, cultivate relationships and love justice and peace.
237. Let us remain faithful to the truth! Living amid incessant flows of information, opinions and images, we know how easy it can be to influence decisions and preferences through increasingly sophisticated algorithms. [218] In this context, it is imperative to cultivate hearts that love the truth, prefer what is right despite the most appealing content and pursue wisdom rather than immediate results. We must always keep before us the truth about God and humanity, just as Christ has revealed them to us. We must lay aside an individualistic and technical view of humanity, as if reality were mere matter to be shaped according to selfish interests, whether individual or collective. [219] Instead, let us cultivate what Pope Francis called a “situated anthropocentrism,” [220] which recognizes the human being as a creature embedded in a network of relationships with other living beings and with all of creation. Fidelity to the truth requires integrating the possibilities offered by technology within a framework marked by wisdom, which is capable of safeguarding both the dignity of each person and the future of our common home.
238. Let us invest in education, beginning with ourselves! We all need to learn how to engage with the digital world in a human way, as an integral part of our education in the faith and in a life lived according to the Gospel. Indeed, we must consider the digital world as a new continent to be evangelized, one that requires generous missionaries who are mature in the faith. In a particular way, we need adults to rediscover their vocation as artisans of education, prepared to work patiently each day, with the support of extensive and shared educational partnerships. Today, accompanying children and young people in using technology for developing responsible relationships, helping them to recognize the risks and choose what fosters inner freedom, is a concrete form of charity and will safeguard their dignity. Teaching new generations that technological evolution does not follow a predetermined path, but can be guided by personal and collective responsibility, constitutes one of the most valuable services to the common good.
239. Let us cultivate relationships! In an era that favors speed and fragmentation, the human person still yearns to receive care and recognition from attentive minds, kind words and hands capable of tenderness. The digital culture multiplies connections and offers new opportunities for interaction; yet, the human heart retains an irrevocable need for genuine closeness. I invite everyone to cherish places and times where physical presence remains crucial, such as shared meals, Christian community gatherings, time spent with the lonely and serving the poor. These are signs of a humanity that continues to believe that every person’s body is a dwelling place of God and a temple of the Holy Spirit. It is precisely this covenant between glory and fragility that becomes the criterion for evaluating the anthropological models offered by contemporary culture.
240. Let us love justice and peace! The same technologies that facilitate communication and access to resources can also support models that exploit the most vulnerable, create new forms of slavery and derive profit from conflict. Every technical or economic decision should include spiritual discernment and be an opportunity for assessing whether the advances in AI are promoting justice and participation or concentrating wealth and power in the hands of a select few. I would encourage a careful examination of the supply chains of digital production, the working conditions hidden behind our devices and the mechanisms that profit from manipulation and war. At the same time, practical ways of fostering fairness, participation and care for creation must be found. We proclaim a hope rooted in the One who came down from heaven to “create a new story here below.” For this reason, those who believe are committed to ensuring that a greater justice will take the place of inequality, and that the industry of war will be replaced by the craft of peace. [221]
241. As we look to the future, I would like to recall the image of Nehemiah whom we chose as our companion and guide at the outset. Nehemiah heard the cry of a devastated city, brought that pain to prayer, discerned before God, asked for help, received permission to return, organized the work, confronted internal and external resistance and rebuilt the walls of Jerusalem with the assistance of the people, brick by brick. In this era of digital transformation, I see in him a striking parable of our own vocation, which is not to be passive spectators of social and cultural fractures, nor mere commentators on what is crumbling, but men and women prepared to enter the construction sites of history — research laboratories, technology companies, schools, the media, institutions and local communities — in order to rebuild what has collapsed and protect what is threatened. Like Nehemiah, we too are called to unite listening and courage, prayer and responsibility, so that, even when a technocratic mentality or partisan interests seem to prevail, the human city may become a more fitting place to live.
242. The image of rebuilding Jerusalem evokes the New Testament promise of the holy city, which is given to us first and foremost as a gift. In the Book of Revelation, the new Jerusalem descends as a gift for all God’s people, “prepared as a bride adorned for her husband” (Rev 21:2). The walls of Jerusalem are no longer defensive fortifications, but the precious adornments of the Bride of the Lamb. Its gates, which Nehemiah guarded so diligently, remain permanently open to all nations. God’s presence offers light and life to all. The city is a new Eden, with its living water offered to the thirsty, and its tree of life whose leaves “are for the healing of the nations” (Rev 22:2). As we await its fulfillment, this vision is set before us as an encouragement — a call to overcome our divisions and to work together — for this is the way of Jesus Christ, yesterday, today and forever.
The song of hope: the Magnificat
243. After having considered faith, which contemplates the Father’s loving plan; love, which unites us in one ecclesial body; and hope, which sustains our actions in the world, the fourth pillar of this program for Christian life is prayer. Mary’s song accompanies our commitment. Before Elizabeth who announces to her that she has become the mother of the Lord, Mary bursts into a hymn of praise and joy. Her soul magnifies the Lord, and her spirit rejoices in God her Savior, for he chose a young, poor and humble girl for his plan of salvation. Mary suddenly sees all of history through the lens of this revelation. Nothing has changed around her; the socio-political situation of her time remains the same. The Romans continue to control her land, and her people are still subjugated and humiliated. Yet, everything has changed within her, and this allows her to see what is invisible. God has already shown the strength of his arm; he has already scattered the proud, cast down the mighty, lifted up the lowly, filled the hungry with good things and sent the rich away empty-handed. He has already helped Israel, his servant. God “takes the part of the lowly. His plan is one that is often hidden beneath the opaque context of human events that see ‘the proud, the mighty and the rich’ triumph. Yet his secret strength is destined in the end to be revealed.” [222]
244. The Blessed Virgin Mary not only teaches us to recognize God’s invisible work, but also directs our gaze to “the points at which humanity is broken and the world becomes distorted: the contrast between the humble and the powerful, the poor and the rich, the satiated and the hungry,” teaching us “to look at the world from a lower position: through the eyes of those who suffer rather than the mighty; to view history through the eyes of the little ones, rather than through the perspective of the powerful; to interpret the events of history from the viewpoint of the widow, the orphan, the stranger, the wounded child, the exile and the fugitive.” [223] The Blessed Virgin thus becomes “poet and prophetess of Redemption,” because on her lips is proclaimed “the strongest and most innovative hymn ever articulated, the Magnificat; it is she who reveals the transformative vision of the Christian economy, the historical and social result that still draws its origin and strength from Christianity.” [224]
245. With the same faith as Mary, let us become “weavers of hope” in our world, sharing who we are and what we have, so that the presence of Jesus may grow among us and his Kingdom take shape. In the humble fidelity of daily life, even the era of AI can become a time in which the Holy Spirit brings about the civilization of love in our lives. Indeed, the Lord continues to make all things new and offers every era the possibility of becoming part of salvation history in the light of the Incarnation. I entrust our desire to the Mother of Christ, to the Woman of the Magnificat, that she may guide our steps through this time of change and preserve in each of us true faith in the Gospel, so that we may bear witness to the grandeur of humanity, in which God has made his dwelling.
Given in Rome, at Saint Peter’s, on 15 May, in the year 2026, the second of my Pontificate.
LEO PP. XIV
[203]First “Urbi et Orbi”Blessing (8 May 2025): AAS 117 (2025), 660.
[204]Ibid.
[205] Cf. Homily at First Vespers on the Solemnity of Mary the Most Holy Mother of God (31 December 2025): L’Osservatore Romano, 2 January 2026, 1-2.
[206] Cf. Homily of the Mass during the Day (25 December 2025): L’Osservatore Romano, 27 December 2025, 3.
[207] Cf. ibid.
[208] Cf. Angelus on the Solemnity of the Epiphany (6 January 2026): L’Osservatore Romano, 7 January 2026, 3.
[209] Cf. Homily of the Mass during the Night (24 December 2025): L’Osservatore Romano, 27 December 2025, 2.
[210] P. de Bérulle, Discours de l’état et des grandeurs de Jésus, Discours IV, Unité de Dieu en l’incarnation: Œuvres complètes, Paris 1856, col. 218.
[211] Ibid .
[212] Cf. Address to the Conference “Artificial Intelligence and Care of Our Common Home” (5 December 2025): L’Osservatore Romano, 5 December 2025, 2.
[213] Benedict XVI, Encyclical Letter Deus Caritas Est (25 December 2005), 14: AAS 98 (2006), 228.
[214] Saint Augustine, Sermons, 272: In die Pentecostes ad infantes de sacramento: PL 38, Paris 1865, col. 1247.
[215] Benedict XVI, Homily at the Mass of the Lord’s Supper (21 April 2011): AAS 103 (2011), 321.
[216]Address to the Roma Curia for the Exchange of Christmas Greetings (22 December 2025): L’Osservatore Romano, 22 December 2025, 6-7.
[217] Cf. above, nos. 11-14.
[218] Cf. Address to the Conference “The Dignity of Children and Adolescents in the Age of Artificial Intelligence” (13 November 2025): L’Osservatore Romano, 13 November 2025, 3.
[219] Cf. Benedict XVI, Encyclical Letter Caritas in Veritate (29 June 2009), 34: AAS 101 (2009), 668-670.
[220] Francis, Apostolic Exhortation Laudate Deum (4 October 2023), 67: AAS 115 (2023), 1059.
[221] Cf. Angelus on the Solemnity of the Epiphany (6 January 2026): L’Osservatore Romano, 7 January 2026, 3.
[222] Benedict XVI, General Audience (15 February 2006): L’Osservatore Romano, 16 February 2006, 4.
[223]Meditation on the occasion of the Prayer Vigil and Rosary for Peace (11 October 2025): L’Osservatore Romano, 13 October 2025, 2.
[224] Saint Paul VI, Homily at the Marian Shrine of Our Lady of Bonaria, (24 April 1970): AAS 62 (1970), 301.
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The Following is the
Program of Prayer & Study for
Thursday of the Nineteenth Week
in Ordinary Time
Daily Mass Readings: cccb.ca
From a treatise on Christian Perfection by Saint Gregory of Nyssa, bishop
We possess Christ, our peace,
our light
He is our peace, for he has made both one. Since we think of Christ as our peace, we may call ourselves true Christians only if our lives express Christ by our own peace. As the Apostle says: He has put enmity to death. We must never allow it to be rekindled in us in any way but must declare that it is absolutely dead. Gloriously has God slain enmity, in order to save us; may we never risk the life of our souls by being resentful or by bearing grudges. We must not awaken that enmity or call it back to life by our wickedness, for it is better left dead.
No, since we possess Christ who is peace, we must put an end to this enmity and live as we believe he lived. He broke down the separating wall, uniting what was divided, bringing about peace by reconciling in his single person those who disagreed. In the same way, we must be reconciled not only with those who attack us from outside, but also with those who stir up dissension within; flesh then will no longer be opposed to the spirit, nor the spirit to the flesh. Once we subject the wisdom of the flesh to God’s law, we shall be re-created as one single man at peace. Then, having become one instead of two, we shall have peace within ourselves.
Now peace is defined as harmony among those who are divided. When, therefore, we end that civil war within our nature and cultivate peace within ourselves, we become peace. By this peace we demonstrate that the name of Christ, which we bear, is authentic and appropriate.
When we consider that Christ is the true light, having nothing in common with deceit, we learn that our own life also must shine with the rays of that true light. Now these rays of the Sun of Justice are the virtues which pour out to enlighten us so that we may put away the works of darkness and walk honorably as in broad daylight. When we reject the deeds of darkness and do everything in the light of day, we become light and, as light should, we give light to others by our actions.
If we truly think of Christ as our source of holiness, we shall refrain from anything wicked or impure in thought or act and thus show ourselves to be worthy bearers of his name. For the quality of holiness is shown not by what we say but by what we do in life.
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THREE GREAT ANNIVERSARY EVENTS THIS WEEK
THIS EVENING!!
7 PM THURSDAY AT ST. JOSEPH'S HERE IN KINGSTON
TOMORROW EVENING
7 PM FRIDAY HERE AT THE CATHEDRAL:
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