Peace be with you all:
Toward a disarmed and disarming peace
“Peace be with you!”
This ancient greeting, still used in many cultures today, received new life on Easter evening on the lips of the risen Jesus. “Peace be with you” (Jn 20:19, 21) is his word, which not only wishes peace, but also brings about a lasting change in those who receive it, and consequently in all reality. For this reason, the successors of the apostles each day across the world give voice to the quietest revolution: “Peace be with you!” Since the evening of my election as Bishop of Rome, I have wished to join my greeting to this universal proclamation. And I would like to emphasize once more that it is the peace of the risen Christ—a peace that is unarmed and disarming, humble and enduring. It comes from God, who loves us all unconditionally.
[1]
The peace of the risen Christ
The Good Shepherd, who lays down his life for the flock and who also has other sheep that are not of this fold (cf. Jn 10:11,16), is Christ, our peace, who has conquered death and broken down the walls that divide humanity (cf. Eph 2:14). His presence, his gift, and his victory continue to shine through the perseverance of many witnesses, through whom God’s work in the world continues, becoming ever more visible and radiant in the darkness of our time.
The contrast between darkness and light is not only a biblical image that describes the birth pangs of a new world; it is also an experience that calms us and affects us amid the trials we face in our historical circumstances. To overcome darkness, one must see the light and believe in it. This is a call that the disciples of Jesus are invited to live in a unique and privileged way; yet it also finds its way into the heart of every person. Peace exists; it wants to live within us. It has a gentle power to illuminate and expand our understanding; it resists and overcomes violence. Peace is a breath in which we cry out toward evil, “Enough is enough”; and in which we whisper toward peace the words “forever.” Into this horizon the Risen One has led us. Grounded in this conviction, even in the midst of what Pope Francis called “a piecemeal third world war,” peacemakers continue to resist the spread of darkness, standing as watchmen in the night.
Unfortunately, it is also possible to forget the light. When this happens, we lose a sense of reality and surrender to a partial and distorted worldview, shaped by darkness and fear. Many today call “realistic” those hopeless narratives that are blind to the beauty of others and forget the grace of God, which is always at work in human hearts, even when sin has wounded them. Saint Augustine urged Christians to form an unbreakable bond with peace, so that by cherishing it deeply in their hearts they might radiate its bright warmth around them. Addressing his community, Augustine wrote: “If you wish to draw others toward peace, first acquire it yourself; be firmly at peace yourselves. To kindle others, a flame must be burning within you.”
[2]
Dear brothers and sisters, regardless of whether we have the gift of faith or feel that we lack it, let us open ourselves to peace! Let us receive it and acknowledge it, instead of believing that it is impossible and beyond our reach. Peace is more than just a goal; it is a presence and a journey. Even if it is in danger within us and around us, like a small flame threatened by a storm, we must protect it, never forgetting the names and stories of those who have borne witness to it. Peace is a principle that guides and defines our choices. Even in places where only ruins remain and despair seems inevitable, we still find people who have not forgotten peace. Just as Jesus entered on the evening of Easter into the place where his disciples had gathered in fear and discouragement, so too the peace of the risen Christ continues through doors and barriers in the voices and faces of his witnesses. This gift enables us to remember goodness, to recognize it as victorious, to choose it again, and to do it together.
Unarmed peace
Just before his arrest, in a moment of intimate trust, Jesus said to his companions: “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives.” And he immediately added: “Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid!” (Jn 14:27). Their anguish and fear were certainly connected to the violence that would soon befall him. Yet more deeply, the Gospels do not conceal the fact that the disciples were disturbed by his nonviolent response: the path that they all, with Peter first, went through; nevertheless, the Master asked them to follow this path to the end. The way of Jesus continues to cause unrest and fear. He firmly repeats to those who defend him with force: “Put your sword back into its sheath” (Jn 18:11; cf. Mt 26:52). The peace of the Risen Jesus is unarmed, because his struggle was unarmed in the midst of concrete historical, political, and social circumstances. Christians must together bear prophetic witness to this newness, mindful of the tragedies in which they have too often been complicit. The great message of the Last Judgment calls all Christians to act with mercy in this awareness (cf. Mt 25:31-46). In doing so, they will find beside them brothers and sisters who have, in various ways, listened to the pain of others and have freed themselves inwardly from the deception of violence.
Although many people today have hearts ready for peace, they are often gripped by a great sense of powerlessness in the face of an increasingly uncertain world. Saint Augustine already pointed to this particular paradox: “Possessing peace is not difficult; it may be harder to praise it. To praise peace, we may discover that we lack the necessary gift; we search for the right ideas and weigh our words. But possessing peace is something that exists, within reach, and we can have it without effort.”
[3]
If we treat peace as a distant ideal, we are no longer shocked when it is denied or even when war is waged in its name. We seem to lack the “right ideas,” well-considered words, and the ability to say that peace is near. If peace is not a reality that is lived, cultivated, and protected, then aggression spreads both in private and in public life. In relations between citizens and rulers, it might even be considered a mistake not to be sufficiently prepared for war, not to respond to attacks, and not to repay violence with violence. Such a confrontational logic, which goes far beyond the justified principle of defense, now dominates world politics, deepening instability and unpredictability day by day. It is no coincidence that repeated calls to increase military spending, and the resulting choices, are presented by many heads of government as a justified response to external threats. The idea of military power, especially nuclear deterrence, is based on the irrationality of relations between states, which are built not on law, justice, and trust, but on fear and domination by force. “Consequently,” as Saint John XXIII wrote in his time, “people live in constant fear. They are afraid that an approaching storm may break upon them at any moment with terrible violence. And they have good reason to be afraid, for there is certainly no lack of such weapons. Although it is hard to believe that anyone would dare to take responsibility for initiating the terrible slaughter and destruction that war entails, it cannot be denied that a conflagration could begin from some accidental and unforeseen circumstance.” [4]
In addition, it should be noted that global military spending increased by 9.4% in 2024 compared to the previous year, confirming the trend of the past decade and reaching a total of 2,718 billion dollars (or 2.5% of global GDP). [5] In addition, responding to new challenges appears to involve not only massive economic investments in rearmament, but also a shift in education policy. Instead of promoting a culture of memory that preserves the hard-won awareness of the twentieth century and its millions of victims, we now see in schools, universities, and the media communication campaigns and educational programs that spread a perception of threats and promote only the idea of armed defense and security.
And yet, “those who truly love peace also love the enemies of peace.” [6] St. Augustine therefore advised not to burn bridges or make reproaches, but to prefer listening and, whenever possible, to engage in discussion with others. Sixty years ago, the Second Vatican Council concluded with a renewed awareness of the urgent need for dialogue between the Church and the modern world. In particular, the constitution Gaudium et Spes drew attention to developments in warfare: “The special dangers of modern warfare lie in the fact that it puts those who possess newly developed weapons in danger of committing such crimes and, through a relentless chain of events, drives people toward even greater atrocities. To prevent this from happening in the future, the bishops of the world gathered together to ask everyone, especially heads of government and military advisors, to reflect constantly on their immense responsibility before God and all humanity.” [7]
Echoing the call of the Fathers of the Council and considering dialogue the most effective approach at every level, we must acknowledge that further technological advances and the military application of artificial intelligence have deepened the tragedy of armed conflicts. Even among political and military leaders, there is a growing tendency to evade responsibility, as decisions concerning life and death are increasingly delegated to machines. This marks an unprecedented and destructive betrayal of the legal and philosophical principles of humanism, which form the foundation of every civilization and safeguard them. It is necessary to condemn the enormous concentration of economic and financial interests in the private sector that drives states in this direction; but this alone is not enough if we do not also awaken conscience and critical thinking. The encyclical Fratelli Tutti presents Saint Francis of Assisi as an example of such an awakening: “In that world, full of watchtowers and defensive walls, cities were an oasis of brutal wars between powerful families, even as poverty spread across the countryside. Yet it was precisely there that Francis was able to bring true peace into his heart and free himself from the desire to have power over others. He became one of the poor and sought to live in harmony with all.” [8] This is a narrative we are called to continue today, and it means joining forces to contribute to disarming peace, a peace born of openness and evangelical humility.
Disarming peace
Goodness is disarming. Perhaps for this very reason God became a child—the mystery that reaches to the deepest descent even into the realm of eternity begins in a young mother’s womb and is revealed in the manger of Bethlehem. “Peace on earth,” the angels sing, proclaiming the presence of a defenseless God, in whom humanity can discover itself loved only by caring for him (cf. Lk 2:13-14). Nothing can change us as much as the Child Jesus. Perhaps it is precisely the thought of our children and other equally fragile people that pierces the heart (cf. Acts 2:37). In this regard my venerable predecessor wrote that “human frailty has the power to make us clearer about what endures and what passes, what gives life and what kills. Perhaps for this reason we so often tend to deny our limits and avoid wounded people: they have the power to call into question the path we have chosen, both as individuals and as a community.” [9]
Johannes XXIII was the first Pope to advocate “complete disarmament,” which can be achieved only through the renewal of the heart and mind. In “Pacem in Terris” he wrote: “Everyone must understand that if this process of disarmament is not thorough and complete and does not reach into people’s souls, it is impossible to halt the arms race or to reduce armaments or—and this is the main point—to abolish them completely in the end. Everyone must sincerely cooperate to banish fear and the expectation of war from our minds. But this requires that the fundamental principles on which peace in today’s world is based be replaced by entirely different ones, namely the conviction that true and lasting peace among nations cannot be based on equal armaments but only on mutual trust. And we are convinced that this is possible, because it is something dictated not only by sound reason but also, in itself, the most desirable and fruitful.” [10]
An important service that religions must render to suffering humanity is to protect themselves from the growing temptation to turn even thoughts and words into weapons. The great spiritual traditions, as well as right reason, teach us to look beyond blood ties or ethnic belonging, beyond associations that accept only those who are similar and reject those who are different. Today we see that this cannot be taken for granted. Unfortunately, it has become increasingly common to enlist the language of faith in political battles, to bless nationalism, and to justify violence and armed struggle in the name of religion. Believers must actively, above all through the witness of their lives, refute these forms of blasphemy that profane the holy name of God. Therefore, in addition to action, it is more necessary than ever to cultivate prayer, spirituality, and ecumenical and interreligious dialogue as paths of peace and as languages of encounter within traditions and cultures. Around the world there is hope that “every community will become a ‘house of peace,’ where through dialogue hostility is mitigated, where justice is practiced and forgiveness is valued”.
[11] More than ever we must show that peace is not a utopia by fostering attentive and life-giving pastoral creativity.
At the same time, this should in no way diminish the importance of the political dimension. Those entrusted with the highest public responsibility must “seriously consider the problem of how to achieve more humane relations between states throughout the world. This adjustment must be based on mutual trust, the sincerity of negotiations, and the faithful fulfillment of obligations. Every aspect of the problem must be examined so that, in the end, a point of agreement may be reached from which sincere, lasting, and beneficial agreements can be initiated.” [12] It is the disarming path of diplomacy, mediation, and international law, which unfortunately is too often undermined by the growing violation of hard-won agreements at a time when there is a need to strengthen transnational institutions, not delegitimize them.
In today’s world, justice and human dignity are under alarming threat due to the imbalance of global power. How can we live in such a time of destabilization and conflict and free ourselves from evil? We must encourage and support every spiritual, cultural, and political initiative that keeps hope alive, by fighting the spread of “fatalistic terms,” as if the dynamics involved were the result of anonymous impersonal forces or structures independent of human will.” [13] For, as has been said, “the best way to dominate people and gain control is to sow despair and discouragement, even under the guise of defending certain values.” [14] Against this strategy, we must promote self-awareness in civil societies, forms of responsible unity, experiences of nonviolent participation, and practices of restorative justice on both small and large scales. Leo XIII had already made this clear in his encyclical Rerum Novarum: “Awareness of one’s own weakness prompts a person to call for help from outside. In Scripture we read: ‘Two are better than one, because they have the advantage of companionship. For if they fall, one will lift up the other; but woe to the one who is alone when he falls and has no one to lift him up!’ (Ecclesiastes 4:9-10). And further: ‘A brother helped by a brother is like a strong city!’ (Proverbs 18:19).” [15]
May this be one of the fruits of the Jubilee of Hope, which has inspired millions of people to rediscover themselves as pilgrims and to begin within themselves this disarming of heart, mind, and life. God will surely respond to this, fulfilling his promises: “He will judge between the nations and will settle disputes for many peoples; and they will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks; nation will not lift up sword against nation, nor will they learn war anymore! House of Jacob, come, let us walk in the light of the Lord!” (Is 2:4-5).
LEO PP. XIV
8 December 2025
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[1] See “Urbi et Orbi”, central loggia of the Vatican Basilica (8 May 2025).
[2] Saint Augustine of Hippo, ser. 357, 3.
[3] Ibid., 1.
[4] John XXIII, encyclical Pacem in terris (11 April 1963), 111.
[5] See SIPRI Yearbook: Armaments, Disarmament and International Security (2025).
[6] Saint Augustine of Hippo, ser. 357, 1.
[7] cf. Gaudium et spes, 80.
[8] Francis, encyclical Fratelli Tutti (3 October 2020), 4.
[9] Francis, Letter to the editors of Corriere della Sera (14 March 2025).
[10] John XXIII, encyclical Pacem in Terris (11 April 1963), 113.
[11] Address of Leo XIV to the bishops of the Italian Bishops’ Conference (17 June 2025).
[12] John XXIII, encyclical Pacem in Terris (11 April 1963), 118.
[13] Benedict XVI, encyclical Caritas in Veritate (29 June 2009), 42.
[14] Francis, encyclical Fratelli Tutti (3 October 2020), 15.
[15] Leo XIII, encyclical Rerum Novarum (15 May 1891), 50.