Pope Leo XIV and the Vatican Curia Listen to the Testimony of a Nun who had a Near Death Experience - during the Jubilee of the Holy See
.png)
Before his death, Pope Francis had wished for the Jubilee of the Holy See to open with the preaching of this woman, who addressed the Pope and the Curia.
During her speech, she spoke of hope as the guiding thread of the world. In fact, she even shared her personal experience as an example:
“Eternity lies before humility, and I say this with conviction, because when I was 20 years old—when my faith was still very weak and clouded by many illusions of modern man—I had a near-death experience. I saw the crack of eternity open before me, and that changes your life, it changes your perspective.”
In the meditation in the Paul VI Hall in the presence of Pope Leo XIV, the nun of the monastic community of the Perpetual Adorers of the Blessed Sacrament recalls a hope stretched between the past and the future. No longer a nostalgia "disconnected from the present", but an impetus towards "the great horizon of life that does not die"
Summary of the nun's talk: In an evocative intertwining of art and reality, past, present and future, Sister Maria Gloria Riva, a nun from a monastic community, meditated on the key theme of the current Holy Year: hope. He does so in the Paul VI Hall, in the presence of Pope Leo XIV, on the occasion of the Jubilee of the Holy See, whose celebrations take place today, 9 June.
Sister Riva begins her speech with emotion, recalling how Pope Francis and Archbishop Rino Fisichella, responsible for organizing the Jubilee and pro-prefect of the Dicastery for Evangelization, thought of her for “this great event.” She addresses an emotional greeting to Leo XIV, underlining their points of contact: their common formation according to the Rule of Saint Augustine and the approval, two centuries ago, of her community by Leo XII.
Having lived in the Republic of San Marino for a decade, the nun highlighted the value of small states in a globalized context, where ancient traditions hold “the thread of hope” firm, while the world risks losing its “historical roots”. Thread and hope: deeply interconnected words, since the biblical term tikva , which indicates hope, has as its root kav , or “rope”, “thread” stretched between two poles. In biblical Hebrew, therefore, “the man who, rooted in his past, knows how to launch himself towards the future while living the present in tension has hope”.
Living in this suspension is difficult, but necessary. The balance between past and future is, according to Sister Riva, “the great root of hope”. Taking one of the two poles to extremes can be dangerous: by looking back too much, one risks “nostalgia for a past that is no more”, generating a sterile traditionalism; by running too far ahead, one ends up in an “illusory futurism”, incapable of facing the concrete challenges of the present.
Like a thread that is woven step by step, each word of the meditation connects with the next. The reference to “futurism” recalls the artistic movement that Giorgio de Chirico also adhered to. “The past, with its glories and its sorrows, can represent a springboard for living the present with the right tension,” says Sister Riva. She therefore takes inspiration from a work by De Chirico: The Return of the Prodigal Son (1922). Here, the artist — initially an interventionist, then disillusioned by the war — portrays himself as the returning son: broad shoulders, pronounced quadriceps, thin ankles. He is the “ self-made ” man, confused but welcomed by his father, a Greek statue that comes down from the pedestal to embrace him. “Yes, the past comes to meet us with its questions, not to crush us, but to relaunch us in the present, looking to the future with hope.”
Two works by a contemporary artist are on display, until next July, in a traveling exhibition through Italy, bringing the disruptive message of the Nativity, in ...
The anxieties of the past are amplified in the present. The race for progress, in a world where “the means of social communication are shaping new forms of socio-cultural life”, can lead to confusion. “Be careful”, warns Sister Riva, “the means are instruments: they require that the user does not renounce his roots or launch himself towards an indefinite elsewhere, but knows how to orient himself”. Here we can feel the Augustinian formation of the nun, who quotes the bishop of Hippo: “You don’t run well if you don’t know where you are running towards”.
There is, however, a path to travel without fear: that of John and Peter towards the empty tomb. “It is the race of those who know that hope lies in true life, eternal life. Eternity is before us: to those who believe and to those who do not believe. To all humanity”. From here comes the invitation to work “ for the great horizon of life that does not die”, asking ourselves if each step is in accordance with the truth, “which is charity and eternity”. Thus, therefore, hope is manifested: in “affirming the truth that respects life, from its conception to its end; that respects the dignity of every person, beyond their gender, their creed or their nationality; that respects the particular customs and cultures of each people, a great universal wealth”.
The Jubilee is therefore a stimulus to reflect on the “ultimate things”, which can cause interior earthquakes, feelings of inadequacy or failure. But from this humility is born “that little nothing”, hope, according to the evocative definition of Charles Péguy. The humble, says Sister Riva quoting Victor Hugo, “are the truly strong, capable of looking at life with eyes of wonder”. Humility wins over the “great enemy of man, the Evil One, who threatens the very places where holiness is most manifest”. For this reason, we must arm ourselves with modesty, to recognize, “with the eyes of wonder, the small but sure steps of hope”.
Quoting the words of Blessed Mary Magdalene of the Incarnation, founder of the Perpetual Adorers, Sister Riva recalls that “the last words of a holy man are the most important to keep”. Those of Jesus at the Last Supper connect “faith in the Father and the hope of eternal life to charity among us”. To hope, therefore, means to live in unity, and the Eucharist is a privileged channel of hope, capable of dissolving tensions between past, present and future. Knowing it is not enough: we must “believe” it and proclaim it.
“How can we defeat the habitual gaze and develop the humble gaze of wonder?”, the nun asks. The answer comes from her own community, born in Rome in the Napoleonic era, amidst persecutions and the “kidnapping” of Pius VII. It was the Pope who wanted the first monastery next to the Quirinale, where he then resided: an invitation to turn one’s gaze to the Eucharist, “amidst the persecutions of the world and divine consolations,” as St. Augustine writes. Ultimate consolation resides in God: “He loves us with an eternal love. It is up to us to let ourselves be shaped and realized in time by the illuminations offered by the Holy Spirit, through the Eucharist and the Virgin Mary, a sure sign of hope.”
In Dostoevsky's work Prince Myshkin finds himself in front of the aforementioned work of Holbein's Dead Christ , which portrays Jesus in life-size, with sunken eyes and limbs already marked by decomposition. "What beauty will save us? That of the cross? That of defeat?" Sister Riva answers: "Yes, the cross can still save us: a cross accepted and offered."
The last image evoked is the Madonna of Port Lligat by Salvador Dalí, painted after Hiroshima: symbol of the tragedy "that a science and a technique detached from ethics, could cause us". The face of the Madonna is that of Gala, wife and consolation of the artist. Around, signs of ruin: the broken arch that looms over her ("so our Institutions, ancient but often bearing signs of deterioration"), the Christological fish on the predella, suspended mountains. But there are also signs of rebirth: an egg, angels with outstretched hands, pregnant women. The entrails of Mary and Baby Jesus are open squares, like the Jubilee Doors. At the center of the body of the Divine Infant, the Eucharistic Bread. In the hands of the Child, two elements: "the universe and the Word, human and divine wisdom". It is from here, finally, that hope is born again: from the Eucharist, "from the strength of the past", to creatively interpret the present and "bet" with confidence on the future - always trusting in the caring help of Mary.
At the end of the meditation, Pope Leo was given the Jubilee Cross, which he carried in procession from the Paul VI Hall to the entrance of the Vatican Basilica, passing through the Arch of the Bells. Behind the Pontiff, the cardinals, bishops and priests, followed by lay personnel.
SEE Pope Leo XIV Carry the Cross in Procession: https://www.catholicnewsworld.com/2025/06/wow-pope-leo-xiv-carries-cross-in.html
Source: Vatican News IT
Comments