Holy Father,
welcome to the large square of Naples. Here it is not just the Church gathered in prayer that speaks. The city speaks here.
And Naples, when it speaks, never does so with one voice.
She talks to the sea, which has always taught her openness.
Talk to the alleys, which hold stories, names, connections.
Speak with the balconies, with the working hands, with the shops, with the schools, with the universities, with the hospitals, with the parishes, with the families, with the young people, with the poor, with all those who keep a small light on every day.
Naples doesn’t give you a postcard today. He hands her a face.
An old and young face at the same time. A marked face, certainly, but still capable of amazement.
A face that knows the struggle, but has not forgotten the celebration.
Who knows the pain, but hasn’t stopped singing.
Who knows the trials of life, but continues to generate brotherhood.
Holy Father,
this city has a great soul.
A soul made of hospitality, intelligence, creativity, popular faith, beauty that resists even when everything seems difficult.
Naples knows how to transform a little into a lot.
It knows how to make a home even where space is limited.
He knows how to share bread even when there is not enough bread.
It knows how to recognize the foreigner, because it has always been a city of landings, of encounters, of different languages, of peoples who have looked each other in the eyes.
Naples is a city that does not close its heart easily.
And this is a grace.
But it is also a responsibility.
Because a city like this, a city with such a capacity to love, cannot be satisfied with surviving.
It is called to flourish. She is called to make her beauty become daily justice.
She is called to transform her generosity into a shared future.
If a little while ago, in front of the relics of our Saint, we invoked peace, here, in this square, that invocation descends into the concrete life of the city and becomes a more demanding question: peace and justice.
Because peace needs justice so as not to remain a fragile word.
And justice needs peace so as not to lose the face of brotherhood.
Today we ask you this, Holy Father: help us to safeguard peace and justice together.
Not as two words to pronounce, but as two paths to travel.
Peace and justice for young people, so that they can stay, choose, build, dream here.
Peace and justice for children, so that every child has the right to school, to play, to beauty, to tenderness.
Peace and justice for families, who are the first place where the city learns not to be alone.
Peace and justice for the elderly, living memory of Naples, roots to be safeguarded and not left behind.
Peace and justice for the poor, who are not the edge of the city, but the point from which to measure the truth of our love.
Peace and justice against the Camorra, which is not just crime, but an educational lie, a false promise, a religion of money, theft of the future.
Because the Camorra doesn’t just kill when it shoots. He kills when he convinces a boy that worth means commanding. When it makes people believe that respect is bought with fear. When it occupies the void left by loneliness, by the lack of credible adults, by the fragility of communities.
And so today Naples must say it with new clarity: no boy is born lost.
No neighborhood is born condemned.
No family should be left alone to fight against what is bigger than them.
Peace and justice for those arriving from the sea, for those looking for a home, for those looking for work, for those simply looking
someone who says: you are my brother, you are my sister.
Holy Father,
this square today is a promise. Inside this square there are extraordinary energies.
There are educators who open paths every day.
There are teachers who save lives without making any noise.
There are doctors, nurses, social workers who take care of the frail.
There are volunteers who inhabit the suburbs as places of hope.
There are artisans, workers, entrepreneurs, artists, students, mothers and fathers who do not give up and continue to build.
This is the Naples that we want to deliver to you.
Not a perfect city. But a living city.
A city capable of starting again.
A city that has immense resources within itself:
culture, faith, solidarity, genius, music, care, civil passion, the ability to get up again.
Naples knows that the future is not just expected.
He’s getting ready. It is prepared by educating. He prepares by working. It is prepared by including. He prepares himself by holding out his hand.
He prepares by choosing the best possible every day.
And so, Holy Father, a great desire arises from this square: that Naples becomes more and more a city of encounters.
City where no one is invisible.
Cities where beauty is not the privilege of a few, but the breath of all.
Cities where work is dignity.
Cities where schools are open doors.
Cities where care reaches those who are most fragile.
Cities where young people don’t have to leave to believe in tomorrow.
Cities where peace is not only invoked, but built in relationships, in neighborhoods, in families, in public and private choices.
Naples is a seaside city. And the sea, Holy Father, reminds us that every border can become a bridge.
The Mediterranean must not be a place of fear. It must return to being a space for meeting, dialogue and brotherhood. From this city overlooking the sea, we want to say that peace begins when the other is no longer a threat, but a face. When the poor is not a problem, but a brother. When the young person is not a risk, but a promise. When diversity is not distance, but wealth.
