Pope Leo XIV says “The Church" Exists "to lead every person to an encounter with the Lord” and Calls the Diocese of Rome to a Pastoral Evaluation Highlighting 4 Key Areas

Pope Leo XIV has encouraged the Diocese of Rome to begin its new pastoral year by taking time to listen, discern and evaluate its activities, rather than simply adding new initiatives. Addressing the Diocesan Assembly at the Basilica of St John Lateran on Friday, the Pope said he was not presenting a new pastoral programme but proposing a shared method of “pastoral evaluation”.

ADDRESS OF HIS HOLINESS POPE LEO XIV
TO THE DIOCESAN ASSEMBLY OF ROME

Basilica of St. John Lateran
Friday, September 18, 2026
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Dear brothers and sisters,

I would like to begin with you on Easter morning, from a garden, from an empty tomb. Mary Magdalene is there, at dawn, when it is still dark, and the darkness in which she finds herself is not only that of the unending night. It is the darkness of someone who has lost someone, of someone who seeks and cannot find, of someone who bends down and weeps. The Gospel, however, does not leave her in that weeping. A man approaches her, whom she mistakes for the gardener, and asks her two questions: "Why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?" ( John 20:15).

These two questions, dearest ones, I would like to inspire the Diocese of Rome's immediate journey. Indeed, I believe we can hear them addressed today to our Church and to the entire city: "Why do you weep? Whom are you seeking?" They concern the anxious search for hope you perceive in parishes, in meetings, and in everyday life, when you have listened to one another and to the people. Mary Magdalene is awake before dawn and has already rushed to the tomb, because in her there is life, there is expectation! Thus, in Rome, there are many people who begin anew each morning, but also parish communities, associations, movements, groups, and ecclesial entities that work generously in evangelization, in charity, and in service to liturgical prayer. Of course, alongside this richness, you have honestly acknowledged some difficulties. It is the bewilderment of those who can no longer find where the Lord is found. An experience we share with many brothers and sisters, but one that we too experience. Sometimes the proposals, activities, and meetings multiply and the center, the evangelical meaning of what we do, is lost.

And behold, in the Gospel, a single word makes Mary Magdalene turn: her name, "Mary!" ( Jn 20:16). This is how we encounter Jesus Christ: by hearing Him call us by name, in the many ways this can happen. This is where all pastoral action must begin: not so much by asking "what" to do, but rather "who" and "how" to encounter. In our communities, we can remain anonymous, invisible, and misunderstood, or we can be seen, known, and called by name. And those who truly encounter Christ, like Mary Magdalene, feel their heart filled, and then they cannot remain still; they run and go to proclaim the news. "I have seen the Lord!" (v. 18), the woman says to the disciples. Not a memory, not a private matter, but a profound joy that generates community.

For this reason, brothers and sisters, I am not presenting you with a new pastoral program today. We are not starting from scratch, and nothing of what we have experienced should be archived. Our work on "spiritual illnesses" has taught us to recognize what, in our ecclesial life, needs to be healed, corrected, or converted. The Synodal Path has taught us how to listen and discern together, co-responsible for the one mission. Instead, I would like to propose that we develop a third dimension: that of pastoral assessment .

To verify, under the light of the Holy Spirit, means to pause, re-examine what has happened, recognize what has borne fruit, understand what hasn't worked, and seek the reasons together. It means, in a word, establishing the truth. I invite you to undertake this verification by involving the entire community and, wherever possible, also listening to those who aren't members of it and see things, so to speak, "from the outside."

To help you practice pastoral assessment, I would like to point out some points of attention, which I distinguish but which form a single dynamic.

The first concern: to encounter Christ and to bring him to encounter . The Church does not exist for itself, but to lead each person to an encounter with the Lord; and so it is not enough to ask whether an activity is well-organized, whether it is well-attended, whether it has lasted for many years; we must ask ourselves whether it truly leads to Christ, whether it brings the Gospel into people's concrete lives.

The second focus: building community . From Christ's Easter, new, free, and reconciled communities are born. We have the courage to care for the essentials, to make room for true relationships, where people feel part of a people: welcomed, supported, valued, and co-responsible. Let us commit to offering young people time and a listening ear, both within and beyond our initiatives.

The third concern: to inhabit and serve the city . Rome is not the indifferent backdrop of our communities: it is the place of our mission. The community generated by the Risen One cannot remain closed in on itself, but shares the expectations, fragilities, and questions of its people; and it learns to recognize, in what happens in the city's various settings, the questions to which the Gospel can answer, if welcomed anew.

To these three areas of verification, a fourth is added , which runs through them all: the formation of the People of God . Do our activities foster growth in faith? Do they form missionary disciples? Do they help develop ecclesial responsibilities? Do they generate a mature faith, capable of translating into concrete choices of life and service?

The heart of the method I propose, however, is a very simple question: " Why? " It involves pausing together and asking ourselves, for everything we do: why do we do it? What evangelical intention drives us, what real need do we intend to respond to, how does this choice correspond to the mission of the Church? And then, the second step: why do we achieve these results and not others? Why do some initiatives generate paths while others remain isolated? Why do some people participate while others remain marginalized? From the encounter between the reasons for our choices and the reasons for their effects, authentic discernment is born, which allows us to recognize what needs to be maintained, valued, corrected, abandoned, or initiated.

To ensure this doesn't remain a mere wishful thinking, the journey will have its own "rhythm," and I thank the Cardinal Vicar and the other collaborators for having prepared the stages that will be presented to you.

I therefore ask you to give yourselves time to journey together—not a year, but a journey—so that it may be a true discernment and not an initiative added to others. The Bishop is not asking you to plan new activities: he is offering you a shared method of listening, discernment, evaluation, and conversion. The content and priorities remain the responsibility of your communities, in the five areas of catechesis and Christian initiation, youth, family, charity, and vocations, because the goal is to share a pastoral approach, not to standardize experiences. And in this, the Prefectures are called to increasingly become places of encounter, discussion, and shared pastoral development.

Dear brothers and sisters, it's true: a method, alone, has never converted anyone. So, lest what I have proposed remain abstract, I also remind you of a face. I have joyfully approved the decision to take the necessary steps to launch the diocesan inquiry into the life, virtues, and reputation for sanctity of Father Luigi Di Liegro, a priest of this Church, who died on October 12, 1997. The gift he gives to our journey lies not primarily in the works he accomplished: Father Luigi, before building anything, wanted to "see." In 1969, he commissioned a survey of Roman religiosity, because he had learned that there is no incarnation of the message without listening to reality. In his final address, a few weeks before his death, Father Luigi told his staff: "Discernment is this question: Lord, where are you?"

Dear friends, this brings to mind Mary Magdalene's question at Jesus' tomb. It is the question with which we begin again today. What signs of the Kingdom and what calls of the Holy Spirit emerge from the life of Rome today, and what form of Church must we assume to recognize and serve them? Keeping this question within us will help us be a Church in solidarity with the destiny of this city, in touch with its wounds, its expectations, and its transformations.

I would now like to say a word to you about the ordained ministry in Rome. First, however, I want to say "thank you," and not just as a formality. Thank you to the Cardinal Vicar, the Auxiliary Bishops, the Prefects, and all who serve in the offices of the Vicariate. Thank you to the parish priests and parochial vicars; to the elderly and sick priests; to the chaplains of hospitals, prisons, schools, and universities; to the priests who come from other Churches and other countries, who serve in this city as if it were their own. Thank you to the permanent deacons and their families. Thank you to the men and women religious; to those who silently support Rome with their intercession; and to those who encounter her every day in schools, hospitals, shelters, and in the suburbs. Thank you to the catechists, educators, and charitable workers. We know: goodness makes no noise; the Lord knows it, and today I too wish to acknowledge it. Thank you!

I also know that pastoral service today is more demanding than it was yesterday. I urge you not to bear the burdens alone. And I tell you clearly that the art of pastoral assessment does not ask you to do more: rather, it gives you permission to do less and better. If pastoral assessment were to become yet another burden on your shoulders, we would have betrayed its purpose. I would therefore like to offer you some reflections on the priests Rome needs. The priest should be a man who listens before responding, who discerns before deciding. A person who remains before the Lord, because he cannot lead others to an encounter he is not experiencing. The question of "why?" is first and foremost a personal question: why am I a priest? Does my day still correspond to the reason why the Lord called me by name? The priest does not concentrate all responsibility within himself. He recognizes charisms, forms consciences, and enables the co-responsibility of the laity: not for lack of strength, but out of fidelity to the nature of the Church. A community in which everything depends on the parish priest is a fragile community, and presiding doesn't mean doing everything. It means generating communion, valuing the energies of others, connecting people and realities, and preserving unity. The priest, ultimately, integrates and desires to belong to a community capable of understanding its neighborhood, sharing its wounds and hopes, responsible for the lives of all, even those who never enter the church. This is the form that charity takes in pastoral leadership, and it is what prevents a parish from retreating into self-preservation.

No one is called to experience all this alone. The presbytery is not the sum of priests who meet for organizational needs: it is a fraternity, and it is the first place to verify whether what we do truly generates communion. I desire that the Prefectures be, before being instruments of coordination, effective places of priestly fraternity, where we can also speak of our own struggles without shame. Alongside you, the deacons remind the entire Church that it exists to serve; and the men and women religious, with the generosity of their lives, remind Rome that no efficiency saves man and that primacy belongs to God.

A special thought goes to our seminarians. Dear young men, you are preparing to be priests for this Diocese. I invite you to participate, already now, in this journey of self-examination, learning to embrace it as a style during your years of formation. And let yourselves be formed both by books, which are necessary for encountering good teachers, and by faces: by the poor, the sick, the people of our parishes. To you and your formators, I express my gratitude and my trust. Young people do not constrain themselves to a role, but follow men and women who appear happy with who they are.

I know that this journey of reflection will require patience, and perhaps even the courage to let go of something we hold dear. But it is the same courage as Mary Magdalene, who had to let go of the desire to hold on to the Lord and instead run to proclaim him. From this pastoral discernment, I hope, will arise a phase of sharing renewed experiences and then the construction of a common path that will prepare us, together, for the Jubilee of the Redemption of 2033.

Dear brothers and sisters of Rome, do not be afraid to let your name be called again! The living Lord allows himself to be encountered by those who, like Mary at dawn on Easter, still have the courage to seek him, even in tears, even in the darkness. May the Mother of God, Salus Populi Romani , who first believed in and brought Christ into the world, accompany you. And to all of you, to your communities, and to this city, may my blessing go forth.