Editor’s note: On Sunday, September 27, 2020 — at the height of the Covid-19 pandemic — Pope Leo XIV delivered the following homily on the 106^th World Day of Migrants and Refugees. Given from the context of Peruvian culture, then-Bishop Robert Prevost of Chiclayo emphasizes the importance of coherence between word and action, pointing out that what God truly desires is both a sincere “yes” and then following through. In this homily, the future pope calls for transformation and conversion, urging Christians not only to welcome migrants and refugees, but to draw close to them.

This is an unofficial translation of the original Spanish. —ML

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Homily by Bishop Robert Prevost

World Day of Migrants and Refugees

Dear brothers and sisters, once again, welcome, and thank you for joining us in this celebration. We have just heard the Word of God — a word that truly speaks to us today. In the Gospel, Jesus poses a question: Who did the will of the Father? The one who said, “No, I don’t want to,” but later changed his mind and went? Or the one who said, “Yes, Father, I will go,” but then didn’t follow through?

Clearly, it was the first — the one who said no but then went. But that still isn’t the ideal. What the Lord truly desires is that we say yes and then actually do it.

One thing that is often lacking in our experience today — in our personal lives, in our communities, in our political leadership in many places — is coherence. Authenticity in our words. We don’t want promises that won’t be kept, and we don’t want lies, excuses, or pretexts. I believe this time of the pandemic has helped us become more aware of the importance of consistency between our words and our actions, between our “yes” and how we actually live it out.

This applies at every level, especially when we reflect on today’s theme, part of this year’s World Day of Migrants and Refugees, celebrated under the theme: “Like Jesus Christ, forced to flee.” It is essential that we recognize — even in the midst of so many who are forced to flee, despite the many difficulties they face — that the Church is called to be a place of refuge and assistance, a place where God’s mercy is revealed, lived, and experienced. A place where what is truly God’s justice — not human justice — is made manifest.

We heard this in the first reading, and we repeated it in the responsorial psalm: “Remember your mercies, O Lord.” How deeply we need that mercy. Let us take a moment to reflect on the reality we are living here in Peru today, especially with regard to migration. In recent years, more than 800,000 Venezuelan migrants have arrived here. Today, Peru ranks second only to the United States in the number of asylum requests. In the Lambayeque region alone, it is estimated that there are about 15,000 people — 2,500 migrant families — with whom we now share our land.

But Jesus asks more of us. Simply sharing territory is not enough, is it?

We must learn, more and more, to welcome others — to receive them with generosity.

For today, the Holy Father has prepared a beautiful message, and I would like to share just a few phrases, a few elements from his message for this 106th World Day of Migrants and Refugees and offer a brief reflection.

The theme, “Like Jesus Christ, forced to flee,” proposes, first of all, that in order to understand, we must first come to know. Knowledge is a necessary step toward truly understanding the other. Jesus teaches this in the well-known encounter between the Risen Christ and the disciples on the road to Emmaus. The Gospel of Luke tells us: “While they were talking and discussing together, Jesus himself drew near and went with them, but their eyes were kept from recognizing him.”

When we speak of migrants, we too often reduce them to statistics. But they are not numbers — they are people. And when we truly see them, when we genuinely desire to know them, we begin to recognize that they have stories, lives, and dignity. To understand them, we must first come to know them. This has become even more difficult during the pandemic, which has only intensified the suffering that migrants and displaced persons endure. It is, sadly, a constant element of their lives.

Later, the Pope offers this powerful phrase: “It is necessary to be close in order to serve.” “To draw near and serve.” It might sound obvious, but often it’s not. Once again citing the Gospel of Luke, the Pope reminds us of the Good Samaritan:

“But a Samaritan, as he journeyed, came to where the man was; and when he saw him, he had compassion, and went to him and bound up his wounds, pouring on oil and wine; then he set him on his own beast and brought him to an inn, and took care of him.”

Many times, our fears and prejudices cause us to keep our distance from others. They prevent us from drawing near. And if we don’t come close — if we don’t become neighbors — how can we serve?

To draw near to our neighbor means being willing to take risks. Just as so many doctors, nurses, and healthcare workers have shown us in recent months, being close to others in order to serve them goes far beyond the bare minimum of duty.

The greatest example of service was given to us by Jesus when he washed the feet of his disciples. As the second reading reminds us, even though he was in the form of God, he did not cling to his equality with God. On the contrary, he took the form of a slave, becoming like us in all things. He took on the condition of a servant. And how difficult that is — how hard it is to truly serve.

The Pope goes on to say: “In order to grow, it is necessary to share.” And this presents a great challenge for all of our communities — our parishes, our dioceses. In the first Christian community, sharing was one of the fundamental pillars. In the Acts of the Apostles we read: “The group of believers was of one heart and one soul. No one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but they held everything in common.” Everything in common.

God never intended the resources of our planet to benefit only a few. That is not the will of the Lord. And yet, more and more, in many parts of the world, that is exactly what we find: a few who have far too much. And it is an attitude that can creep into our own hearts as well — this desire to hold on tightly to what is mine, to cling to possessions, to see them as exclusively ours. And this makes it so difficult to share.

But this difficulty in sharing becomes an obstacle to living a true experience of community — including with our migrant brothers and sisters. We are called to share. We are called to accompany them, to welcome, protect, and promote them — fostering a real experience of community that looks beyond nationality, beyond skin color, beyond religion and all the other distinctions that so often divide us.

At this moment, I want to express my deep gratitude to the many people and institutions that help us live out this call to share. Those who help the Church extend a helping hand — perhaps it seems small, but it makes a tremendous difference, especially for those in greatest need. Caritas, the Commission for Human Mobility, countless families, communities, and movements. Religious congregations, private companies, and generous individuals who have stepped forward to support and share with others, particularly to help mitigate the effects of the pandemic on such a vulnerable population — our migrant brothers and sisters.

Dear brothers and sisters, as Church, we are responding to the Lord’s call to build a more humane and more just society — one where no one is excluded.

Let us ask the Lord to help us live according to the example and teachings of Jesus — with humility, with generosity, learning to know one another so that we may truly share, to come to know one another so that we may build genuine human communities where no one is in need, where all of us feel like brothers and sisters.

Once again, thank you to all who support these initiatives. May the Lord strengthen and help each of us to be living witnesses of his love in the world.

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Image: YouTube Screenshot.