Dear brother and sisters, dear Uruguay, good evening! Thank you, thank you!
I give thanks to God for the opportunity to be here with you. I also thank Cardinal Sturla, Archbishop of Montevideo, for his words of welcome, as well as Federica, Giovanni, and the Gutiérrez Hernández family for sharing their testimonies with such sincerity. I know that long years of faithfulness lie beneath what can be seen during a brief visit: families have passed on the faith, priests and consecrated men and women have given their lives, laypeople, often during their youth, have sustained their communities, and many others have placed themselves at the service of others out of love for God. Thank you for making Jesus Christ present in so many lives. He chose us so that we might go and bear fruit (cf. Jn 15:16), and perhaps much of that fruit remains where we ourselves cannot even see it. The Church is deeply grateful to you.
Being here with you this evening gives me the opportunity to share a reflection on something that many Christian communities are experiencing today: the advance of secularization and an increasingly widespread religious indifference. In many places, the faith is no longer passed on as readily as it was in previous generations, and the number of people who live most of their lives without Church attendance or religious practice is growing. The members of the pilgrim Church in Uruguay have had to learn to live and proclaim their faith in this context, as we have just heard. For this reason, their experience can help brothers and sisters in other parts of the world who are beginning to discover, in different ways, what it means to be a minority. Yet even in these circumstances, many persevere: parents who pray with their children, teachers who strive to live and bear witness to their faith, young people who have discovered Christ and wish to follow him even when they feel alone, communities that continue to gather, and priests who travel great distances to bring the sacraments to the faithful. As I reflected on all of this, one small biblical town came to mind: Bethlehem.
The prophet Micah had called it “the least among the clans of Judah” (5:2); Saint Matthew, on the other hand, later said: “By no means are you the least” (2:6). Bethlehem was still small. Nothing had changed in its size or political importance. Perhaps Bethlehem can teach us something about this reality: when we are few in number, when our strength wanes, when we realize that our social presence is no longer what it once was, we may be tempted to judge our situation by purely human standards. The Gospel invites us to see things differently. God chose Bethlehem, and that choice alone is enough to prevent us from equating smallness with insignificance.
We need only think of the Eucharist: the Lord of the universe is present under the humble appearances of bread and wine! That same divine logic is already revealed in his birth. Saint Luke recounts that, when the time came for the child to be born, “there was no place for them” (2:7). All the inns were full. Perhaps we can see in this an image of today’s indifference. Life becomes filled with activities, affections, plans and distractions, until the absence of God is no longer felt as an absence. We end up living without seeking him, or even without realizing how much we need him.
Christ comes, but the inn is full. There is no room inside, so he ends up lying in a manger. Soon Herod will try to kill him, unable to tolerate a reign he cannot control. Something of Bethlehem continues to happen: God can be considered unnecessary, and faith confined to the private sphere, as though it had nothing to contribute to society. When we try to build a world without God, we run the risk of leaving humanity without a place as well. But none of this changes the reality: that Child is God, and he comes to save us. That “us” includes each and every one of us, for indifference can also creep, little by little, into the lives of those of us who believe.
Bethlehem asks us a simple question: is there room for him? Is there room in our time, in our way of thinking, in our homes? Is there room to listen to him, to receive his forgiveness, to allow his word to correct us? We need to keep Christ at the center of our lives through prayer, Mass, Confession and the meditative reading of the Gospel. We must all become disciples again and again. If we want others to find Christ, we need to know the way to Bethlehem ourselves first.
The Magi also went to Bethlehem after seeing a star from afar. They were not experts in the Scriptures. They did not know where their journey would end, and they could not even explain what they were seeking. But that light awakened in them a yearning that set them on their way. Dear friends: with humility and simplicity, you can reflect the light of Christ in your own lives. Perhaps there are people who would never open a Bible on their own, who have not set foot in a church in years, or who cannot even say whether they believe in God. But when they see you, the desire for God may be awakened in them; they may even discover that it is worth risking their lives to find him.
Friends, young people, dare to take the step of marrying, starting a family yourselves. Do not be afraid of “forever”! Married couples, open your home to life, even when the world tells you that a child is a burden. If any of you feel that Christ is calling you to leave everything behind to follow him in the priesthood or in consecrated life, do not ignore that voice out of fear of missing out on other opportunities. When being just and honest comes at a price, pay it. When forgiving seems like a defeat, forgive. When everyone tells you to think of yourselves first, do not be afraid to put yourselves in the last place. Be willing to give up time, money, comfort and plans to serve others. May those who see you find themselves asking: “Why do they live in this way? Where do they get this freedom? Why do they love one another so much?”
The star the Magi saw was not the destination. Its mission was to lead them to Bethlehem, where Christ is. If our lives spark a question, they will have borne fruit when that question guides someone to Jesus. To shed much light, we do not need to be many, but rather to reflect the Lord’s light.
Saint Luke now takes us to another scene: some shepherds are spending the night tending their flocks. They did not follow the star; they did not set out on any journey, nor did they seem to be searching for anything. They are simply in the midst of their lives, doing what they do every night. It is precisely there that God comes to meet them: “Do not be afraid; for see — I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people” (Lk 2:10). The motto of my visit is inspired by this proclamation: I announce to you a great joy!These words should always occupy a central place in the life of the Church. Good News needs witnesses, for we have received news that deserves to be proclaimed to the world: Jesus Christ! The Son of God has become man! He is God with us!
Through him we know that our sins can be forgiven. We can accompany those who are dying and tell them that their lives will not end in nothingness. We can bring bread and wine to the altar and receive his Body and Blood. We can say to those who have fallen, “Get up; you can still begin again.” Look at what has been entrusted to us! Jesus Christ is our hope. Society may find many valuable things in other institutions, but none can replace the proclamation that God’s love is stronger than death, hatred, violence, war and sin. This is the joy we bring; the Pope has come to remind you about this joy.
The angel adds that this joy is intended for “all the people.” He does not say “for those who were expecting it,” nor “for those who are perfect.” Some people, like the Magi, are already searching, and we must accompany them on their journey. Others, however, like the shepherds of Bethlehem, are not searching for anything. For them, this joy must go out and find them in the midst of their night.
After hearing the proclamation, the shepherds said to one another, “Let us go now to Bethlehem.” There they found Mary, Joseph and the Child. The Evangelist adds that they returned to their fields “glorifying and praising God” (Lk 2:20). They returned to the same work, the same paths and probably the same problems. But they were no longer the same. They had encountered Christ.
Dear friends, may this encounter be like a visit to Bethlehem, so that you can return to your lives in a new way! May Christ truly enter into what you do, what you love, what you choose — even those aspects of your life that no one sees. Be saints! Do not settle for a merely decent life or for a habitual faith, content with doing only the essential. Do not give God only a part of yourselves — give yourselves completely! Saints are men and women who overflow with the abundance of life in Christ. They are free and authentic people whose lives make it attractive to say a resounding “yes” to love, truth and happiness. Do not be afraid, then, to aspire to holiness. Christ did not call us to mediocrity; he called us to a new and full life like his own.
Dear brothers and sisters, dear Uruguay: may everyone know that we have been to Bethlehem. May it be evident that Christ lives and that encountering him makes all the difference. That same Jesus who was born in Bethlehem, who died and rose again, lives forever and remains with us. Christ awaits us, truly present in the Eucharist. How beautiful that Bethlehem means precisely “house of bread.” There was born the One who would give himself to us as the Bread of Life. Today, therefore, we can continue to encounter him — so near and so humble — in every tabernacle. Seek him there, in Eucharistic adoration. Speak to him as you would to a friend, and let him look upon you.
Let us also place our lives under the gaze of Our Lady of the Thirty-Three. May she, the Morning Star who leads us to her Son, teach us to recognize him and follow him. Let us ask the Lord for the grace to always respond to his call like she did: “Here I am, Lord; here is your servant. Let your will be done in me!”
Thank you.