
Dear sisters and brothers in Christ,
The second reading for this Sunday includes the Christological hymn from the Letter to the Philippians that appears repeatedly in the Liturgy of the Hours, the official prayer of the Church.
St. Paul describes the mystery of the Incarnation and self-emptying of Christ for our redemption. He does it with great eloquence and poetic beauty.
By His Incarnation, the Lord has elevated human nature present in each one of us to an infinite dignity.
During these days when Pope Leo is visiting France on an apostolic journey that is very moving especially because of the fervor of the people and the beauty of the events, he explicitly addressed the question of our common humanity during his visit to UNESCO.
“What does it mean to be human?” asked the Pope. Then, he went on to say, “every culture is challenged by this question, which lies at the heart of every form of knowledge, every art and every religion. Even in the twenty-first century, after all, we cannot take for granted that we know who the human person is or what it means to live as a human being. Indeed, every generation is called to grapple with this question, especially in the face of tragedies that, regrettably, occur even today.
Before all else, the human person is someone who is conceived and born. Thus, first of all, to be human means to be a child. None of us chose to be so. None of us decided from whom, when or where to be born. This evident truth sheds light on something that is not merely biological but ethical: as children, we are all brothers and sisters. From the outset, our humanity is a gift and a trial, a promise and a responsibility. For every human being, birth establishes a primordial bond — a communion of life that has its source, and its first educational setting, in the family.
Secondly, we are all born naked and in need. We are poor by birth, in need of bread and words, of care and affection — that is, of all that nourishes body and spirit. We know this well, and yet, as we become adults, we risk forgetting it. It is precisely those in need who suffer the greatest consequences of this forgetfulness, whenever their humanity is betrayed or cast aside, exploited or deceived. Forgetting the circumstances of our birth obscures the very idea of human life, because it detaches life from the history common to us all. Thus, life is no longer understood as a gift, but as a commodity. It is no longer viewed as a summons to care and responsibility, but as a product to be exploited. Indeed, this tragic alternative reminds us that to be human is to be free by nature. Since all of us have been children, our freedom begins with our response to the freedom of the one who first turns to us — whether with gestures of affection or rejection, of loving welcome or neglect and cruelty.
Thirdly, to keep alive the memory of our common humanity is to recognize its grandeur — that is, its immense potential — even though it is diminished by many forms of evil and injustice…
Over the centuries, many tasks once performed by human beings have been entrusted to machines, whose capabilities and applications have continued to expand. More recently, certain artificial systems have even been given the name of our human faculty of thought: intelligence. At the same time, however, our ideas and relationships risk being impoverished by a process of dehumanization. The paradox has become increasingly evident: while “intelligence” is attributed to computational systems, we struggle to recognize the inalienable dignity of human persons, whose lives are judged according to the criterion of efficiency and, when deemed no longer productive, are rejected and discarded.
This painful reality invites us to reflect both on the fragility of our human nature and on the immense dignity of every human person — a dignity that remains undiminished even in the most vulnerable circumstances, even to death itself. The human being is certainly one who is born, but also one who dies. Our dignity is not destroyed by illness or suffering, nor is it dependent upon our abilities. Rather, it calls for loving care at every stage of life.
For the Christian faith, the mystery of the human person finds its fullest light in Christ, who, “in the very revelation of the mystery of the Father and of his love, fully reveals humanity to itself and brings to light its very high calling.” In his light, every person appears to us as a creature willed and loved by God. This light also helps us to grasp more deeply the meaning of our shared human experience.”




Fr. Roberto M. Cid