Dear brothers and sisters,

I am glad to celebrate with you the Feast of the Madonna del Lago, as some of my Predecessors have done in the past: Saint Paul VI, who desired and supported the building of this church dedicated to Mary and consecrated it, and Saint John Paul II, who wished here to recall its memory and renew its message.

The Liturgy of the Word offers us texts that harmonize well with this traditional appointment.

In the first Reading the prophet Jeremiah speaks to us of his irresistible need to correspond to the call he has received: “You seduced me, Lord – he says –, and I let myself be seduced […]. In my heart there was as it were a burning fire […]; I grew weary holding it in, and I could not” (Jer 20:7,9). God revealed to him that he had known and chosen him from his mother’s womb (cf. ibid. 1:5), and that he loves his people with an everlasting love (cf. ibid. 31:3); he spoke to him of his plan of salvation, and Jeremiah can no longer keep silent. He feels an uncontainable impulse to bring his message to everyone, even though he knows that this will mean having to say and do things that many will not like, meeting sufferings and misunderstandings, to the point of becoming “an object of derision every day” (v. 7). But love drives him to act for the good of his people, without compromise, to the end.

This is what Jesus too teaches us in the Gospel. He has recently fed five thousand men with five loaves and two fish (cf. Mt 14:15-21), and then another four thousand, with seven loaves and a few small fish (cf. Mt 15:32-38). Now, beyond the success achieved with those gestures, he explains to the disciples the Messianic meaning of what he has done: he discloses to them that he must “go to Jerusalem and suffer greatly from the elders, the chief priests and the scribes, and be killed and rise on the third day” (Mt 16:21).

Jesus explains how, after the many miracles worked, he will definitively manifest his glory: by freely sacrificing his life (cf. Jn 10:17-18) and offering himself on the cross as broken bread. And he makes clear that the same must be done by anyone who wishes to continue his mission: “Whoever wishes to come after me – he tells us –, must deny himself, take up his cross and follow me” (v. 24).

Jesus thus reveals that only love saves. The love that God has shown us by becoming man, dying and rising for us and, in response, the love with which we too offer ourselves humbly to him and to our brothers and sisters: in the faithful constancy of everyday charity as in the most extraordinary gestures, even to martyrdom, at times, as unfortunately still happens today to many Christians in various parts of the world.

Saint Augustine said that “the joy of the reaper […] shows the intention of the sower” (Sermo 330, 2), and we desire to make his sentiments our own: with God’s help, we want to scatter everywhere in the world the seeds of his infinite charity, tirelessly, without measure, so that today and always someone may rejoice in gathering their fruits.

Unfortunately not everyone understands the beauty, the goodness and the concreteness of this dream of the Creator; indeed many think it is a utopia. To turn the other cheek (cf. Mt 5:39) – they say – is for losers, to give in the face of refusal is for the naive, to forgive without limits (cf. Mt 18:21-22) is for the weak. It is not surprising. Even for Peter it was difficult to accept this new and different way of reasoning (cf. Mt 16:22). But Jesus remains categorical: only the way of love is the way of life.

Let us not deceive ourselves. Hatred and violence bring nothing good, but only destruction and death, always, even when they are a response to injustices suffered. We see it every day, from the small things of our domestic life to the great stage of the world. Everything confirms what Jesus taught us: “whoever wishes to save his life will lose it; but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it” (Mt 16:25).

Dear brothers and sisters, we have such great need of life, of hope, of serenity, of peace, in ourselves, in our cities, among peoples and nations. For this reason, whatever the wound, whatever the offence, let us not allow evil to disfigure our humanity and to corrupt us in our hearts! Let us not conform to the mentality of the world (cf. Rom 12:2). Let us continue to love, to give, to forgive, offering ourselves “as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God” (v. 1), in order to preserve and make grow, in ourselves and in others, the infinite dignity of the divine image that we carry in our souls. And let us not be discouraged if it is difficult: our strength is in the Lord, and with his help everything is possible (cf. Phil 4:13).

The rite of the procession on the lake, which we will carry out shortly, also reminds us of this. It evokes another miracle of Jesus, which took place shortly before the events we have heard, when the Master, on the Lake of Tiberias, reached the frightened disciples by walking on the waters and led them to shore, calming the storm (cf. Mt 8:23-27). Precisely when they were most afraid, at the mercy of the contrary winds, he urged them to have faith, to pray, in order to find peace again and, together with him, to continue sailing towards the desired goal.

With this faith, this evening, we take part in the Eucharist. On the Altar we give ourselves, together with the bread and the wine. And the Lord unites our offerings to his own, consecrates them and gives them back to us, transformed into his Body and his Blood, so that we may share them, as nourishment for the journey. Then, like the disciples, together we will leave the shore, carrying with us the image of Mary, our model and guide, to bring along the shores of the lake the blessing we have received.

They are simple gestures, by which we renew our trust in God and our filial devotion to his Most Holy Mother. And they are all the more evocative in that they are made possible – as Saint Paul VI liked to recall – by the care with which the small community that lives here keeps this place of peace throughout the year, so that in solemn moments the whole people of God may gather there, just like Mary, who welcomed into her womb and into the house of Nazareth the Son of God made man, so that his salvation might reach everyone.

Thus this place of Marian devotion also becomes a sign of how the Church strives, day by day, to make all of us one body, in prayer, in sentiments, in intentions, in the orderly and unanimous development of our being together, and a symbol of the love with which the Lord, through his Most Holy Mother, wished to draw near to us as one of us, to the point of blending into the great crowd of our humanity (cf. Homily on the Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, 15 August 1977).

Let us then draw close, this evening, to Jesus and to Mary, to the Son and to the Mother, so that, united, we may be, not only on the lake, but in all the nights of the world, a calming reflection of God’s presence, and an irresistible echo of his love that invites us to love.