On the occasion of the 59th World Day of Peace, the theme of Pope Leo XIV’s Message, “Peace be with you all: towards a ‘disarmed and disarming’ peace,” is an invitation to reject the logic of violence and war and to embrace an authentic peace founded on love and justice.
Below is the text of His Holiness’s Message for the 59th World Day of Peace, 1 January 2026.
“Peace be with you!”
This most ancient greeting, still used daily today in many cultures, was filled with renewed vigor on the evening of Easter upon the lips of the Risen Jesus. “Peace be with you” (Jn 20:19, 21) is His word that not only expresses a wish, but brings about a definitive change in those who welcome it, and thus in all reality. For this reason, the successors of the Apostles give voice each day and throughout the world to the most silent of revolutions: “Peace be with you!” From the evening of my election as Bishop of Rome, I wished to include my greeting in this choral proclamation. And I wish to reaffirm it: this is the peace of the Risen Christ, a disarmed peace and a disarming peace, humble and persevering. It comes from God, the God who loves us all unconditionally.
The peace of the Risen Christ
The One who has conquered death and broken down the walls of separation between human beings (cf. Eph 2:14) is the Good Shepherd, who lays down His life for the flock and who has many sheep beyond the sheepfold (cf. Jn 10:11, 16): Christ, our peace. His presence, His gift, His victory resound in the perseverance of many witnesses, through whom God’s work continues in the world, becoming even more perceptible and luminous amid the darkness of the times.
The contrast between darkness and light is not merely a biblical image describing the travail from which a new world is being born; it is an experience that runs through us and unsettles us in relation to the trials we encounter, in the historical circumstances in which we live. To see the light and to believe in it is therefore necessary if we are not to sink into darkness. This is a requirement that the disciples of Jesus are called to live in a unique and privileged way, but which, by many paths, can open a way into the heart of every human being. Peace exists; it wishes to dwell within us; it has the gentle power to enlighten and broaden our understanding; it resists violence and overcomes it. Peace has the breath of eternity: while to evil we cry “enough,” to peace we whisper “forever.” Into this horizon the Risen One has led us. In this intuition live the women and men of peace who, amid the drama of what Pope Francis has called a “piecemeal third world war,” still resist the contamination of darkness, like sentinels in the night.
The opposite—forgetting the light—is sadly possible: realism is then lost, yielding to a partial and distorted representation of the world marked by darkness and fear. Today, many describe as realistic those narratives devoid of hope, blind to the beauty of others, forgetful of the grace of God that is always at work in human hearts, however wounded by sin. Saint Augustine exhorted Christians to forge an indissoluble friendship with peace, so that, by preserving it in the depths of their spirit, they might radiate its luminous warmth all around. Addressing his community, he wrote: “If you wish to draw others to peace, have peace yourselves first; be firm in peace above all. To inflame others, you must yourselves have the light burning within.”
Whether we have the gift of faith or feel that we do not, dear brothers and sisters, let us open ourselves to peace! Let us welcome it and recognize it, rather than consider it distant and impossible. Before being a goal, peace is a presence and a path. Though opposed both within and outside us, like a small flame threatened by a storm, let us safeguard it, without forgetting the names and stories of those who have borne witness to it. It is a principle that guides and shapes our choices. Even in places where only rubble remains and despair seems inevitable, even today we find those who have not forgotten peace. Just as on Easter evening Jesus entered the place where the disciples were, fearful and discouraged, so the peace of the Risen Christ continues to pass through doors and barriers in the voices and faces of His witnesses. It is the gift that enables us not to forget the good, to recognize it as victorious, and to choose it again, together.
A disarmed peace
Shortly before being captured, in a moment of deep intimacy, Jesus said to those who were with Him: “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give it to you.” And He immediately added: “Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid” (Jn 14:27). The disturbance and fear could certainly have concerned the violence that was soon to be unleashed upon Him. More deeply, however, the Gospels do not hide the fact that what disconcerted the disciples was His non-violent response: a path that everyone—Peter first of all—challenged Him about, yet one which the Master asked them to follow to the very end. The way of Jesus continues to be a cause of disturbance and fear. And He firmly repeats to those who would defend Him: “Put your sword back into its sheath” (Jn 18:11; cf. Mt 26:52). The peace of the Risen Jesus is disarmed, because His struggle was disarmed, within precise historical, political, and social circumstances. Of this newness Christians must together become prophetic witnesses, mindful of the tragedies of which they have too often been complicit. The great parable of the Last Judgment invites all Christians to act with mercy in this awareness (cf. Mt 25:31–46). And in doing so, they will find at their side brothers and sisters who, by different paths, have learned to listen to the suffering of others and have inwardly freed themselves from the deception of violence.
Although many today have hearts ready for peace, a great sense of powerlessness pervades them in the face of an increasingly uncertain course of events. Saint Augustine already pointed out a particular paradox: “It is not difficult to possess peace. It is, at most, more difficult to praise it. If we wish to praise it, we need abilities that we may lack; we search for the right ideas, we weigh our phrases. But if we wish to have it, it is there, within our reach, and we can possess it without any effort.”
When we treat peace as a distant ideal, we end up no longer finding it scandalous that it can be denied, and that war may even be waged to achieve peace. The right ideas and carefully weighed words seem to be lacking; the ability to say that peace is close is missing. If peace is not a reality experienced, safeguarded, and cultivated, aggressiveness spreads in domestic and public life. In the relationship between citizens and governments, it comes to be considered a fault not to prepare sufficiently for war, to respond to attacks, to react to violence. Far beyond the principle of legitimate defense, on the political level this oppositional logic is the most current datum in a planetary destabilization that is becoming ever more dramatic and unpredictable. Not by chance, repeated appeals to increase military spending and the resulting choices are presented by many governments with the justification of the dangerousness of others. Indeed, the deterrent power of might—and in particular nuclear deterrence—embodies the irrationality of a relationship between peoples based not on law, justice, and trust, but on fear and the domination of force. “As a consequence,” as Saint John XXIII already wrote of his time, “human beings live under the nightmare of a hurricane which could break out at any moment with unimaginable violence. For weapons exist; and if it is difficult to persuade oneself that there are people capable of assuming responsibility for the destruction and suffering that a war would cause, it is not excluded that an unforeseeable and uncontrollable event could spark the ignition that sets the war machinery in motion.”
Indeed, in the course of 2024, global military spending increased by 9.4% compared to the previous year, confirming an uninterrupted ten-year trend and reaching the figure of 2.718 trillion dollars, that is, 2.5% of global GDP. Moreover, today new challenges seem to be addressed not only with enormous economic efforts toward rearmament, but also with a realignment of educational policies: instead of a culture of memory that preserves the awareness matured in the twentieth century and does not forget its millions of victims, communication campaigns and educational programs are promoted—in schools and universities as well as in the media—that spread a perception of threats and convey a purely armed notion of defense and security.
Nevertheless, “whoever truly loves peace also loves the enemies of peace.” Thus Saint Augustine recommended not destroying bridges and not insisting on reproach, preferring instead the path of listening and, as far as possible, of engaging with the reasons of others. Sixty years ago, the Second Vatican Council concluded with an awareness of the urgent need for dialogue between the Church and the contemporary world. In particular, the Constitution Gaudium et spes drew attention to the evolution of warfare: “The distinctive danger of modern warfare lies in the fact that it provides those who possess modern scientific weapons with an almost unlimited opportunity to commit crimes, and through a kind of inexorable chain reaction, it can push human wills toward the most atrocious decisions. In order that this may never happen again in the future, the bishops of the whole world, now assembled, beseech all, especially governments and military leaders, to consider unceasingly before God and before all humanity the enormous responsibility that rests upon them.”
Reaffirming the appeal of the Council Fathers and valuing dialogue as the most effective path at every level, we note how further technological advancement and the military application of artificial intelligence have radicalized the tragic nature of armed conflicts. There is even taking shape a process of the de-responsibilization of political and military leaders, due to the increasing “delegation” to machines of decisions concerning the life and death of human persons. It is an unprecedented destructive spiral of the juridical and philosophical humanism on which every civilization rests and by which it is safeguarded. It is necessary to denounce the enormous concentrations of private economic and financial interests that are pushing states in this direction; but this is not enough if, at the same time, the awakening of consciences and critical thinking is not fostered. 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 waging bloody wars between powerful families, while vast areas of misery grew on the outskirts of excluded populations. There Francis received true peace within himself; he was freed from every desire to dominate others; he became one of the least and sought to live in harmony with all.” This is a story that seeks to continue in us, and that requires us to unite our efforts in contributing to a disarming peace, a peace born of evangelical openness and humility.
A disarming peace
Goodness is disarming. Perhaps this is why God became a child. The mystery of the Incarnation, which reaches its most extreme abasement in the descent into hell, begins in the womb of a young mother and is manifested in the manger of Bethlehem. “Peace on earth,” the angels sing, announcing the presence of a God without defenses, by whom humanity can discover itself loved only by taking care of Him (cf. Lk 2:13–14). Nothing has the power to change us as much as a child. And perhaps it is precisely the thought of our children—of children, and of all who are fragile like them—that pierces our hearts (cf. Acts 2:37). In this regard, my revered Predecessor wrote that “human fragility has the power to make us more lucid about what endures and what passes, about what gives life and what kills. Perhaps this is why we so often tend to deny limits and avoid fragile and wounded persons: they have the power to call into question the direction we have chosen, as individuals and as communities.”
John XXIII was the first to introduce the perspective of integral disarmament, which can be affirmed only through the renewal of heart and mind. Thus he wrote in Pacem in terris: “It must be recognized that the halt to arms production for war purposes, their effective reduction, and, even more, their elimination are impossible or nearly so unless at the same time there is progress in disarmament of the mind; that is, unless sincere efforts are made to dissolve the war mentality in people’s minds. This, in turn, requires that the principle according to which peace is based on a balance of arms be replaced by the principle that true peace can be built only on mutual trust. We believe that this is an objective that can be achieved, since it is demanded by right reason, is ardently desired, and is of the greatest benefit.”
This is a fundamental service that religions must render to suffering humanity, keeping watch over the growing attempt to turn even thoughts and words into weapons. The great spiritual traditions, as well as the proper use of reason, lead us beyond bonds of blood or ethnicity, beyond those fraternities that recognize only those who are similar and reject those who are different. Today we see that this cannot be taken for granted. Unfortunately, it is increasingly part of the contemporary landscape to drag the words of faith into political combat, to bless nationalism, and to justify violence and armed struggle religiously. Believers must actively refute—first and foremost through their lives—these forms of blasphemy that obscure the Holy Name of God. Therefore, alongside action, it is more necessary than ever to cultivate prayer, spirituality, ecumenical and interreligious dialogue as paths of peace and languages of encounter between traditions and cultures. Throughout the world it is to be hoped that “every community may become a ‘house of peace,’ where one learns to defuse hostility through dialogue, where justice is practiced and forgiveness is safeguarded.” Today more than ever, it is necessary to show that peace is not a utopia, through attentive and generative pastoral creativity.
At the same time, this must not distract attention from the importance of the political dimension. Those who are called to public responsibility at the highest and most qualified levels should “carefully consider the problem of the peaceful recomposition of relations between political communities on a global scale: a recomposition founded on mutual trust, sincerity in negotiations, and fidelity to commitments undertaken. They should examine the problem until they identify the point from which it is possible to begin moving toward loyal, lasting, and fruitful agreements.” This is the disarming path of diplomacy, mediation, and international law, unfortunately contradicted by ever more frequent violations of painstakingly achieved agreements, in a context that would require not the delegitimization, but rather the strengthening, of supranational institutions.
Today, justice and human dignity are more exposed than ever to imbalances of power in favor of the strongest. How can we inhabit a time of destabilization and conflict while freeing ourselves from evil? It is necessary to encourage and support every spiritual, cultural, and political initiative that keeps hope alive, countering the spread of “fatalistic attitudes, as if the dynamics at work were produced by anonymous, impersonal forces and structures independent of human will.” For if “the best way to dominate and advance without limits is to sow a lack of hope and arouse constant distrust, even if disguised as the defense of certain values,” such a strategy must be opposed by the development of conscious civil societies, forms of responsible association, experiences of non-violent participation, and practices of restorative justice on both small and large scales. Leo XIII already made this clear in the Encyclical Rerum novarum: “A sense of one’s own weakness drives a person to wish to unite his efforts with those of others. Scripture says: Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil. If one falls, the other lifts him up. Woe to him who is alone when he falls and has not another to lift him up (Eccl 4:9–10). And elsewhere: A brother helped by a brother is like a fortified city (Prov 18:19).”
May this be one of the fruits of the Jubilee of Hope, which has prompted millions of human beings to rediscover themselves as pilgrims and to begin within themselves that disarmament of heart, mind, and life to which God will not delay in responding by fulfilling His promises: “He shall judge between the nations and arbitrate for many peoples; they shall beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore. O house of Jacob, come, let us walk in the light of the Lord” (Is 2:4–5).
Below the letter of the Grand Master Fra’ John Dunlap in response to the Message of Pope Leo XIV for the 59th World Day of Peace, 1 January 2026
Most Holy Father,
The entire Order of Malta—its Professed Members, Priests, Lay Members, Volunteers, and Employees, together with myself—has received with profound attention and sincere gratitude the Message that Your Holiness wished to address to humanity on the occasion of the 59th World Day of Peace.
Your words, illuminated by the Gospel and the Magisterium of Your Venerated Predecessors and supported by a deep understanding of the dynamics of our time, constitute a demanding, timely, and necessary call to the moral responsibility of individuals, institutions, and peoples.
Just over a month before the expiration of New START, the last remaining agreement in force limiting nuclear warheads between the Russian Federation and the United States, the Message resonates with particular force in a historical phase marked by widespread and rapid global rearmament, by an increasingly polarized public discourse, and by a climate of growing acceptance of the idea of conflict as an inevitable outcome of international relations. History teaches, with dramatic clarity, that such dynamics have often preceded great collective tragedies.
The Order of Malta, which nevertheless has a long and glorious tradition of armed service in defense of Pilgrims and Christendom, fully shares Your Holiness’s warning against the progressive normalization of war in public discourse. In this regard, Your Holiness recalled the responsibility of the media, called to inform without fueling fear, hatred, or bellicose spirals. When media language renounces complexity, when it reduces reality to Manichean schemes and diplomacy to a sign of weakness, it contributes—even unintentionally—to preparing the ground for violence. Peace, instead, needs words that open spaces of understanding, not narratives that close off every possibility of mediation.
In this context, the responsibility of those who govern emerges with particular clarity. At a moment when Europe, though marked by a profound tradition of reconciliation and integration, struggles to exercise a credible role of mediation and conflict resolution, it becomes urgent to rediscover the political vocation to serve the common good and peace. Authentic leadership is not measured by the ability to cater to collective fears, but by the courage to propose paths of dialogue, even when they appear difficult or unpopular.
Your Holiness also wisely recalled the danger of triggering a true “self-fulfilling prophecy,” insofar as constantly preparing for war ends up making it more likely. Already in the last century, authoritative voices—and even a great President of the United States, Dwight Eisenhower—warned against the risk that economic and industrial interests linked to defense might acquire disproportionate weight in shaping political choices, conditioning national priorities and reducing space for peaceful solutions. This risk does not belong to a single country or a single era, but reappears today, in different forms, in many parts of the world.
Faithful to its mission as it has evolved over the centuries, the Order of Malta receives in Your Message a pressing appeal to resist these drifts. As a Religious Order of the Church and, at the same time, a subject of International Law engaged in humanitarian action at a global level, we feel with particular intensity the responsibility to translate Your Holiness’s appeal into concrete action: in assistance to the victims of conflicts, in the protection of civilians, in the promotion of humanitarian law, and in dialogue among nations, always at the service of the dignity of the human person.
Reaffirming our filial communion with Your Holiness, I assure you that the Order of Malta will continue to operate, in the most fragile and forgotten contexts, as an instrument of active charity and of silent yet persevering witness to peace.
With reverent devotion, I humbly ask Your Holiness for a blessing upon our Order and upon its Volunteers, who daily serve those who suffer in every part of the world.
Devotedly yours in Christ,
Fra’ John Dunlap
