General Audience with Pope Leo XIV in St. Peter's Square, September 3, 2025.
Dear brothers and sisters:
At the heart of the passion story, at the brightest and at the same time darkest moment of the life of Jesus ChristJohn's Gospel gives us two words that contain an immense mystery: "I thirst" (19:28), and immediately afterwards: "All things are accomplished" (19:30). These last words, but loaded with a whole life, reveal the meaning of the entire existence of the Son of God. On the cross, Jesus does not appear as a victorious hero, but as a beggar of love. He does not proclaim, he does not condemn, he does not defend himself. He humbly asks for what he cannot give himself in any way.
The thirst of the Crucified is not only the physiological need of a broken body. It is also, and above all, the expression of a profound desire: that of love, of relationship, of communion. It is the silent cry of a God who, having wanted to share everything of our human condition, also allows himself to be pierced by this thirst. A God who is not ashamed to beg for a sip, because in this gesture he tells us that love, to be true, must also learn to ask and not only to give.
"I thirst," Jesus says, and in this way he manifests his humanity and ours as well. None of us can be enough for ourselves. No one can save himself. Life is "fulfilled" not when we are strong, but when we learn to receive. And precisely at that moment, after having received from the hands of others a sponge soaked in vinegar, Jesus proclaims: "All is fulfilled". Love has made itself needy, and precisely because of this it has carried out its work.
This is the Christian paradox: God saves not by doing, but by allowing himself to be done. Not by overcoming evil with force, but by accepting to the end the weakness of love. On the cross, Jesus teaches us that the human being is not fulfilled in power, but in trusting openness to others, even when they are hostile and enemies. Salvation does not lie in autonomy, but in humbly recognizing one's own need and knowing how to express it freely.
The fulfillment of our humanity in God's design is not an act of force, but a gesture of trust. Jesus does not save with a coup d'effect, but by asking for something that alone cannot be given. And here opens a door to true hope: if even the Son of God has chosen not to be sufficient for himself, then his thirst - for love, for meaning, for justice - is not a sign of failure, but of truth.
This truth, apparently so simple, is difficult to accept. We live in an age that rewards self-sufficiency, efficiency and performance. However, the Gospel shows us that the measure of our humanity is not what we can conquer, but our capacity to let ourselves be loved and, when necessary, to help.
Jesus saves us by showing us that asking is not unworthy, but liberating. It is the way out of the concealment of sin, to return to the space of communion. From the beginning, sin has generated shame. But forgiveness, the true forgiveness, is born when we can look our need in the face and no longer fear being rejected.
The thirst of Jesus on the cross is then also our thirst. It is the cry of wounded humanity that continues to seek living water. And this thirst does not distance us from God, but unites us to him. If we have the courage to recognize it, we can discover that our fragility is also a bridge to heaven. Precisely in asking - not in possessing - a path of freedom opens up, because we stop pretending to be enough for ourselves.
In fraternity, in the simple life, in the art of asking without shame and offering without calculation, is hidden a joy that the world does not know. A joy that brings us back to the original truth of our being: we are creatures made to give and receive love.
Dear brothers and sisters, in the thirst for Christ we can recognize all our thirst. And learn that there is nothing more human, nothing more divine, than to know how to say: I need. Let us not be afraid to ask, especially when it seems to us that we do not deserve it. Let us not be ashamed to reach out. It is precisely there, in that humble gesture, where salvation is hidden.
Dramatic news is coming from Sudan, particularly from Darfur. In El Fasher, many civilians are trapped in the city, victims of shortages and violence. In Tarasin, a devastating landslide has caused numerous deaths, leaving behind pain and despair. And, as if that were not enough, the spread of cholera threatens hundreds of thousands of already exhausted people. I am closer than ever to the Sudanese people, particularly families, children and displaced persons.
I pray for all the victims. I sincerely appeal to those responsible and to the international community to ensure humanitarian corridors and to launch a coordinated response to stop this humanitarian catastrophe. It is time to initiate a serious, sincere and inclusive dialogue between the parties to end the conflict and restore hope, dignity and peace to the people of Sudan.
