Dear Brothers and Sisters,
I greet all of you with great affection, and I am very happy to end my visit to Malta
by spending some time here with you. I thank Father Dionisio for his welcome. I am
also very grateful to Daniel and to Siriman for their testimonies: you opened your
hearts and shared your lives, and at the same time gave a voice to so many of our
brothers and sisters who were constrained to leave their homelands in search of a
Let me repeat what I said some months ago in Lesvos: “I am here… to assure you
of my closeness… I am here to see your faces and look into your eyes” (Address in
Mytilene, 5 December 2021). Since the day I visited Lampedusa, I have not
forgotten you. You are always in my heart and in my prayers.
This meeting with you, dear migrants, makes us think of the significance of the logo
chosen for my Journey to Malta. That logo is taken from the Acts of the Apostles,
which relates how the people of Malta welcomed the Apostle Paul and his
companions, shipwrecked nearby. We are told that they were treated with “unusual
kindness” (Acts 28:2). Not merely with kindness, but with rare humanity, a special
care and concern that Saint Luke wished to immortalize in the Book of Acts. It is my
hope that that is how Malta will always treat those who land on its shores, offering
them a genuinely “safe harbour”.
Shipwreck is something that thousands of men, women and children have
experienced in the Mediterranean in recent years. Sadly, for many of them, it ended
in tragedy. Just yesterday we received news of a rescue off the coast of Libya, of
only four migrants from a boat that was carrying about ninety people. Let us pray
for these our brothers and sisters who died in the Mediterranean Sea. Let us also
pray that we may be saved from another kind of shipwreck taking place: the
shipwreck of civilization, which threatens not only migrants but us all. How can we
save ourselves from this shipwreck which risks sinking the ship of our civilization?
By conducting ourselves with kindness and humanity. By regarding people not
merely as statistics, but, as Siriman told us, for what they really are: people, men
and women, brothers and sisters, each with his or her own life story. By imagining
that those same people we see on crowded boats or adrift in the sea, on our
televisions or in the newspapers, could be any one of us, or our sons or
daughters… Perhaps at this very moment, while we are here, there are boats
heading northwards across the sea… Let us pray for these brothers and sisters of
ours who risk their lives at sea in search of hope. You too experienced this ordeal
and you arrived here.
Your experiences make us think too of the experiences of all those thousands and
thousands of people who in these very days have been forced to flee Ukraine
because of the unjust and savage war. But also the experiences of so many others
in Asia, Africa and the Americas; I also think of Rohingya…. All of them are in my
thoughts and prayers at this time.
Some time ago, I received from your Centre another testimony: the story of a
young man who told me about the sad moment when he had to take leave of his
mother and his family of origin. His story moved me and made me think. But you,
Daniel, and you, Siriman, each had that same experience of having to leave by
being separated from your own roots, of being uprooted. And that experience of
being uprooted leaves its mark. Not just the pain and emotion of that moment, but
a deep wound affecting your journey of growth as a young man or woman. It takes
time to heal that wound; it takes time and most of all it takes experiences of
human kindness: meeting persons who accept you and are able to listen,
understand and accompany you. But also the experience of living alongside other
traveling companions, sharing things with them and bearing your burdens
together… This helps heal the wounds.
I think of these reception centres, and how important it is for them to be places
marked by human kindness! We know how difficult that can be, since there are
always things that create tensions and difficulties. Yet, on every continent, there
are individuals and communities who take up the challenge, realizing that
migrations are a sign of the times, where civility itself is in play. For us Christians
too, in play is our fidelity to the Gospel of Jesus, who said: “I was a stranger and
you welcomed me” (Mt 25:35). None of this can be accomplished in a day! It takes
time, immense patience, and above all a love made up of closeness, tenderness and
compassion, like God’s love for us. I think we should say a big word of thanks to all
those who took up this challenge here in Malta and established this Centre. Let us
do that with a round of applause, all of us together!
Allow me, brothers and sisters, to express a dream of my own: that you, who are
migrants, after having received a welcome rich in human kindness and fraternity,
will become in turn witnesses and agents of welcome and fraternity. Here, and
wherever God wants, wherever his providence will lead you. That is the dream I
want to share with you and which I place in God’s hands. For what is impossible for
us is not impossible for him. I believe it is most important that in today’s world
migrants become witnesses of those human values essential for a dignified and
fraternal life. They are values that you hold in your hearts, values that are part of
your roots. Once the pain of being uprooting has subsided, you can bring forth this
interior richness, this precious patrimony of humanity, and share it with the
communities that will welcome you and the environments of which you will be a
part. This is the way! The way of fraternity and social friendship. Here is the future
of the human family in a globalized world. I am happy to be able to share this
dream with you today, just as you, in your testimonies, have shared your dreams
Here, I think, is also the answer to a question at the heart of your own testimony,
Siriman. You reminded us that those forced to leave their country leave with a
dream in their hearts: the dream of freedom and democracy. This dream collides
with a harsh reality, often dangerous, sometimes terrible and inhuman. You gave
voice to the stifled plea of those millions of migrants whose fundamental rights are
violated, sadly at times with the complicity of the competent authorities. That is the
way it is, and I want to say it the way it is: Sadly, at times with the complicity of
the competent authorities. And you drew our attention to the most important thing:
the dignity of the person. I would reaffirm this in your own words: you are not
statistics but flesh and blood people with faces and dreams, dreams that are
From there, from the dignity of persons, we can and must start anew. Let us not be
deceived by all those who tell us that “nothing can be done”; “these problems are
too big for us”; “let others fend for themselves while I go about my own business”.
No. Let us never fall into this trap. Let us respond to the challenge of migrants and
refugees with kindness and humanity. Let us light fires of fraternity around which
people can warm themselves, rise again and rediscover hope. Let us strengthen the
fabric of social friendship and the culture of encounter, starting from places such as
this. They may not be perfect, but they are, truly, “laboratories of peace”.
Since this Centre bears the name of Saint John XXIII, I would like to recall the hope
that Pope John expressed at the end of his famous encyclical on peace: “May [the
Lord] banish from the souls of men and women whatever might endanger peace.
May he transform all of us into witnesses of truth, justice and brotherly love. May
he illumine with his light the minds of rulers, so that, in addition to caring for the
material welfare of their peoples, they may also guarantee them the fairest gift of
peace. Finally, may Christ inflame the desires of all men and women to break
through the barriers which divide them, to strengthen the bonds of mutual love, to
learn to understand one another, and to pardon those who have done them wrong.
Through his power and inspiration may all peoples see one another as brothers and
sisters, and may the peace for which they long always flourish and reign among
them” (Pacem in Terris, 171).
Dear brothers and sisters, soon I will join some of you in lighting a candle before
the image of Our Lady. It is a very simple yet meaningful gesture. In the Christian
tradition, that little flame is a symbol of our faith in God. It is also a symbol of
hope, a hope that Mary, our Mother, keeps alive even at most difficult moments. It
is the hope that I have seen in your eyes today: the hope that has made your
journey meaningful and the hope that keeps you pressing forward. May Our Lady
help you never to lose this hope! To her, I entrust each of you and your families. I
will carry you with me in my heart and in my prayers. And I ask you, please, not to
forget to pray for me. Thank you!
Prayer of His Holiness Pope Francis at the Conclusion of the Meeting with
Lord God, Creator of the universe,
source of all freedom and peace,
love and fraternity,
you created us in your own image,
breathed in us the breath of life
and made us sharers in your own life of communion.
Even when we broke your covenant
you did not abandon us to the power of death,
but continued, in your infinite mercy,
to call us back to you,
to live as your sons and daughters.
Pour out upon us your Holy Spirit
and grant us a new heart,
sensitive to the pleas, often silent,
of our brothers and sisters who have lost
the warmth of their homes and homeland.
Grant that we may give them hope
by our welcome and our show of humanity.
Make us instruments of peace
and practical, fraternal love.
Free us from fear and prejudice;
enable us to share in their sufferings
and to combat injustice together,
for the growth of a world in which each person
is respected in his or her inviolable dignity,
the dignity that you, O Father, have granted us
and your Son has consecrated forever.