St. John's Catholic Church

President Donald Trump speaks to reporters as he hosts the annual Easter Egg Roll on the South Lawn of the White House on April 21, 2025, in Washington, D.C. / Credit: MANDEL NGAN/AFP via Getty Images

CNA Staff, Apr 29, 2025 / 08:00 am (CNA).

U.S. President Donald Trump’s approval ratings are significantly higher among Christians than among the religiously unaffiliated, according to a poll by Pew Research released to coincide with Trump’s first 100 days in office. 

Trump’s approval rating continues to be highest among white evangelical Protestants, while Catholics are almost split at 42%, according to the poll.

Across the board, Christians gave Trump a higher approval rating than nonaffiliated Americans by more than 20 percentage points (48% versus 26%, respectively). 

The approval rating for President Donald Trump among Christians is also 8 points higher than among U.S. adults overall.

Among Christians, white evangelical Protestants had the highest approval rating of Trump at 72%. Black Protestants had the lowest approval rating of the current president at 10%.  

Trump’s overall approval rating with white Catholics was significantly higher than with Hispanic Catholics, standing at 52% and 26%, respectively. 

Pew surveyed more than 3,500 U.S. adults from April 7–13 for the poll. 

Policies and ethics  

Forty-three percent of Christians found the Trump administration’s ethical standards were “excellent” or “good.”

When asked about the ethical standards of top Trump administration officials, about 7 in 10 white evangelicals rated them as “excellent” or “good.” Nearly half of white Catholics and a quarter of Hispanic Catholics agreed. 

About half of Christians approved of the Trump administration’s action to end diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) policies and its budget cuts to federal departments, while 46% approved of the substantially increased tariffs on imports.

For these various Trump administration policies, approval rating points among Catholics sit in the 40s. 

Overall, 43% of Catholics approved of the Trump administration’s anti-DEI action; 47% approved of federal department funding cuts; and 41% approved of increased tariffs.

More than half of white Catholics surveyed (54%) said they approved of the anti-DEI initiative, while a large majority of Hispanic Catholics (69%) disapproved. 

In addition, 55% of white Catholics approved of cuts to federal departments and agencies while 65% of Hispanic Catholics disapproved. 

Another 70% of Hispanic Catholics disapproved of the increased tariffs, while 49% of white Catholics approved.

Across the various categories, Catholics do not vary from U.S. adults by more than 3 percentage points.

Trend now downward

This month Trump’s approval ratings dropped by 7% among U.S. adults overall, according to Pew. 

The drop comes in the wake of the Trump administration implementing a surge of tariffs on various foreign imports.  

Trump’s approval ratings dropped by 1 percentage point more among white Catholics than it did among the religiously nonaffiliated. 

The president’s approval rating declined within several categories among Christians. Among white Catholics and Black Protestants, his approval ratings had an 8-point drop. Among white evangelicals and the religiously nonaffiliated, it dropped by 6 and 7 points, respectively.

A view of the Vatican’s Sistine Chapel on Oct. 29, 2014. / Credit: Bohumil Petrik/CNA

CNA Staff, Apr 29, 2025 / 07:00 am (CNA).

Pope Francis, who died April 21 at age 88, was laid to rest at the Basilica of St. Mary Major following his funeral on April 26. 

As the world continues to mourn the late pope during the nine-day period known as “Novendiales” (also rendered “Novemdiales”), preparations are underway for the highly-regulated conclave process, which is the means by which a new pope is elected for the Church. 

Here’s what you need to know about what will happen next.

Setting the stage: Who can take part in the conclave?

The task of electing the new pope falls solely upon the members of the College of Cardinals who are younger than age 80 and otherwise eligible or able to participate, of which there are currently 134. 

Cardinal Giovanni Battista Re, 91, is the current dean of the College of Cardinals, i.e., the most senior member, elected from among the ranks of the cardinal bishops and confirmed by the pope. Normally, it would be Re’s job to move the conclave process forward once it gets underway. 

Re is too old to take part in the conclave, however, as is his vice dean, Cardinal Leonardo Sandri. So the upcoming conclave will be directed by Cardinal Pietro Parolin, the next eligible most senior cardinal bishop and the Vatican’s secretary of state.

May 7: The conclave begins

The conclave system was formalized in 1274, and its procedures are spelled out in great detail in the 1996 apostolic constitution Universi Dominici Gregis of Pope John Paul II, which was amended slightly by Pope Benedict XVI and Pope Francis.

Normally, the day on which the conclave begins is to be the 15th day after the death of a pope, the 16th day of the interregnum (which just means the period between popes). It can begin up to the 20th day “for serious reasons,” or earlier than the 15th day if all the cardinals are present. 

The Holy See Press Office announced Monday that the conclave will begin on the morning of May 7, with the Holy Mass for the Election of the Roman Pontiff in St. Peter’s Basilica. 

That afternoon, the cardinals — only the electors — will make their entrance into the Sistine Chapel, chanting the “Veni Creator Spiritus,” invoking the Holy Spirit’s guidance. Once inside, each cardinal will take an oath to observe the procedures, maintain secrecy, and vote freely for the candidate he believes most worthy.

When the last of the cardinal electors has taken the oath, the master of papal liturgical celebrations, Archbishop Diego Ravelli, will give the order “Extra omnes” (“Everyone out”), indicating that all those not taking part in the conclave must leave the Sistine Chapel. 

Other than the cardinals, the only people allowed to remain in the chapel are the master of papal liturgical celebrations and a clergy member chosen to preach a meditation to the cardinals. After the meditation is given, he and the master of papal liturgical celebrations will leave the chapel (though the master of papal liturgical celebrations will need to be readmitted several times during the process, particularly when a vote is about to happen). 

The chapel doors will then be closed to the outside world until a new pope is chosen.

How does it work once the cardinals are inside?

The cardinals must swear to absolute secrecy both during and after the conclave process, and great care must be taken to ensure the Sistine Chapel has not been bugged. Whenever they leave the chapel — such as for meals and to sleep — the cardinals are not allowed to discuss anything about what took place in the chapel.

Inside the locked chapel, votes are taken among the cardinals once on the first afternoon session, and twice on each morning and afternoon session for each day of the conclave.

The ballot papers all bear the words “Eligo in summum pontificem” (“I elect as supreme pontiff”), above a space for the cardinals to write a name. During the vote, cardinals individually approach Michelangelo’s painting of the Last Judgment, profess an oath in Latin, and drop their ballot into a large urn.

This is the oath that the cardinals pray as they vote:

“I call as my witness Christ the Lord, who will be my judge, that my vote is given to the one who before God I think should be elected.”

Three randomly designated cardinals, known as scrutineers, then tabulate the results in front of the assembly. First, they count the ballots, and if the number of ballots doesn’t match the number of electors, they are burned immediately and a new vote is taken. 

If the number of ballots is correct, the three scrutineers read each ballot, the last of the three reading the name aloud and writing it down. Each elector also writes down the running result on a sheet provided for this purpose. Each ballot, after it is counted, is pierced with a needle and placed on a thread for security.

Another three randomly selected cardinal electors, the revisers, check the ballot count and the notes of the scrutineers to ensure the tabulation of the ballots was carried out exactly and faithfully.

Three additional cardinal electors are randomly chosen as “infirmarii,” whose job it is to assist any electors who, although within the enclosure of the conclave, are too sick to be present in the Sistine Chapel. The infirmarii take with them a locked box that, having been shown to the other electors to be empty, receives the votes of the infirm. They then return it unopened to the scrutineers.

A Catholic man needs two-thirds of the votes — in the present case, 90 votes — to be elected the next pope. Looking at the record of the last century of conclaves shows that the college elects a new pope, on average, by the afternoon of the third day, after about eight ballots.

The new pope

When a voting session concludes without a man reaching the required majority, the ballots are burned with wet straw, causing black smoke to emanate from the chimney of the Sistine Chapel. However, if a pope is elected, the ballots are burned with the addition of a chemical agent, producing the famous white smoke. 

Before that happens, however, there is a process that must be followed once a man receives the required number of votes. 

After the junior cardinal deacon has readmitted the secretary of the college and the master of papal liturgical ceremonies, the cardinal dean, or the cardinal who is first in order and seniority, goes to the one elected and asks:

“Do you accept your canonical election as supreme pontiff?”

With consent he becomes bishop of Rome and the pope (thus ending the conclave, unless the new pope decides to keep it in session for some reason). The cardinal dean then asks:

“By what name do you wish to be called?”

The master of papal liturgical ceremonies, with the witness of the two masters of ceremonies (who are now summoned), then will draw up a document certifying the consent of the man elected and the name he has chosen.

The new pope spends a few moments in a room off the Sistine Chapel known as the Room of Tears, where he is dressed in his white papal vestments. Each cardinal then comes forward in turn and makes an act of homage and obedience to the new pope. An act of thanksgiving to God is then made. 

The senior cardinal deacon announces from the loggia of St. Peter’s to those gathered in St. Peter’s Square: “Habemus papam!” (“We have a pope!”) and what name he has taken. The newly elected pope then comes out to address and bless the city and the world (“urbi et orbi”).

A view of the Vatican’s Sistine Chapel on Oct. 29, 2014. / Credit: Bohumil Petrik/CNA

CNA Staff, Apr 29, 2025 / 07:00 am (CNA).

Pope Francis, who died April 21 at age 88, was laid to rest at the Basilica of St. Mary Major following his funeral on April 26. 

As the world continues to mourn the late pope during the nine-day period known as “Novendiales” (also rendered “Novemdiales”), preparations are underway for the highly-regulated conclave process, which is the means by which a new pope is elected for the Church. 

Here’s what you need to know about what will happen next.

Setting the stage: Who can take part in the conclave?

The task of electing the new pope falls solely upon the members of the College of Cardinals who are younger than age 80 and otherwise eligible or able to participate, of which there are currently 134. 

Cardinal Giovanni Battista Re, 91, is the current dean of the College of Cardinals, i.e., the most senior member, elected from among the ranks of the cardinal bishops and confirmed by the pope. Normally, it would be Re’s job to move the conclave process forward once it gets underway. 

Re is too old to take part in the conclave, however, as is his vice dean, Cardinal Leonardo Sandri. So the upcoming conclave will be directed by Cardinal Pietro Parolin, the next eligible most senior cardinal bishop and the Vatican’s secretary of state.

May 7: The conclave begins

The conclave system was formalized in 1274, and its procedures are spelled out in great detail in the 1996 apostolic constitution Universi Dominici Gregis of Pope John Paul II, which was amended slightly by Pope Benedict XVI and Pope Francis.

Normally, the day on which the conclave begins is to be the 15th day after the death of a pope, the 16th day of the interregnum (which just means the period between popes). It can begin up to the 20th day “for serious reasons,” or earlier than the 15th day if all the cardinals are present. 

The Holy See Press Office announced Monday that the conclave will begin on the morning of May 7, with the Holy Mass for the Election of the Roman Pontiff in St. Peter’s Basilica. 

That afternoon, the cardinals — only the electors — will make their entrance into the Sistine Chapel, chanting the “Veni Creator Spiritus,” invoking the Holy Spirit’s guidance. Once inside, each cardinal will take an oath to observe the procedures, maintain secrecy, and vote freely for the candidate he believes most worthy.

When the last of the cardinal electors has taken the oath, the master of papal liturgical celebrations, Archbishop Diego Ravelli, will give the order “Extra omnes” (“Everyone out”), indicating that all those not taking part in the conclave must leave the Sistine Chapel. 

Other than the cardinals, the only people allowed to remain in the chapel are the master of papal liturgical celebrations and a clergy member chosen to preach a meditation to the cardinals. After the meditation is given, he and the master of papal liturgical celebrations will leave the chapel (though the master of papal liturgical celebrations will need to be readmitted several times during the process, particularly when a vote is about to happen). 

The chapel doors will then be closed to the outside world until a new pope is chosen.

How does it work once the cardinals are inside?

The cardinals must swear to absolute secrecy both during and after the conclave process, and great care must be taken to ensure the Sistine Chapel has not been bugged. Whenever they leave the chapel — such as for meals and to sleep — the cardinals are not allowed to discuss anything about what took place in the chapel.

Inside the locked chapel, votes are taken among the cardinals once on the first afternoon session, and twice on each morning and afternoon session for each day of the conclave.

The ballot papers all bear the words “Eligo in summum pontificem” (“I elect as supreme pontiff”), above a space for the cardinals to write a name. During the vote, cardinals individually approach Michelangelo’s painting of the Last Judgment, profess an oath in Latin, and drop their ballot into a large urn.

This is the oath that the cardinals pray as they vote:

“I call as my witness Christ the Lord, who will be my judge, that my vote is given to the one who before God I think should be elected.”

Three randomly designated cardinals, known as scrutineers, then tabulate the results in front of the assembly. First, they count the ballots, and if the number of ballots doesn’t match the number of electors, they are burned immediately and a new vote is taken. 

If the number of ballots is correct, the three scrutineers read each ballot, the last of the three reading the name aloud and writing it down. Each elector also writes down the running result on a sheet provided for this purpose. Each ballot, after it is counted, is pierced with a needle and placed on a thread for security.

Another three randomly selected cardinal electors, the revisers, check the ballot count and the notes of the scrutineers to ensure the tabulation of the ballots was carried out exactly and faithfully.

Three additional cardinal electors are randomly chosen as “infirmarii,” whose job it is to assist any electors who, although within the enclosure of the conclave, are too sick to be present in the Sistine Chapel. The infirmarii take with them a locked box that, having been shown to the other electors to be empty, receives the votes of the infirm. They then return it unopened to the scrutineers.

A Catholic man needs two-thirds of the votes — in the present case, 90 votes — to be elected the next pope. Looking at the record of the last century of conclaves shows that the college elects a new pope, on average, by the afternoon of the third day, after about eight ballots.

The new pope

When a voting session concludes without a man reaching the required majority, the ballots are burned with wet straw, causing black smoke to emanate from the chimney of the Sistine Chapel. However, if a pope is elected, the ballots are burned with the addition of a chemical agent, producing the famous white smoke. 

Before that happens, however, there is a process that must be followed once a man receives the required number of votes. 

After the junior cardinal deacon has readmitted the secretary of the college and the master of papal liturgical ceremonies, the cardinal dean, or the cardinal who is first in order and seniority, goes to the one elected and asks:

“Do you accept your canonical election as supreme pontiff?”

With consent he becomes bishop of Rome and the pope (thus ending the conclave, unless the new pope decides to keep it in session for some reason). The cardinal dean then asks:

“By what name do you wish to be called?”

The master of papal liturgical ceremonies, with the witness of the two masters of ceremonies (who are now summoned), then will draw up a document certifying the consent of the man elected and the name he has chosen.

The new pope spends a few moments in a room off the Sistine Chapel known as the Room of Tears, where he is dressed in his white papal vestments. Each cardinal then comes forward in turn and makes an act of homage and obedience to the new pope. An act of thanksgiving to God is then made. 

The senior cardinal deacon announces from the loggia of St. Peter’s to those gathered in St. Peter’s Square: “Habemus papam!” (“We have a pope!”) and what name he has taken. The newly elected pope then comes out to address and bless the city and the world (“urbi et orbi”).

Detail from St. Catherine of Siena from the circle of Baldassare Francheschini (17th century). / Credit: Baldassare Franceschini, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Vatican City, Apr 29, 2025 / 04:00 am (CNA).

On the feast of St. Catherine of Siena in 2021, Pope Francis expressed his hope that the “great female figure of faith” would continue to inspire a more joyful and fervent witness.

“The Holy Father hopes that, especially in the context of the 560th anniversary of the canonization of the Sienese saint, the example of such a generous disciple of Christ will foster in all an ever more joyful and fervent witness to faith and charity to promote the civilization of love,” Cardinal Pietro Parolin wrote in a telegram on behalf of the pope, published April 29, 2021.

The Vatican secretary of state sent the telegram to Cardinal Augusto Paolo Lojudice, the archbishop of Siena-Colle di Val d’Elsa-Montalcino, expressing the pope’s good wishes to Catholics in the archdiocese during their three-day celebration of their hometown saint.

St. Catherine of Siena is a doctor of the Church and co-patron of Europe. She played a pivotal role in ending the Avignon exile of the successors of Peter in the 14th century.

Born in Siena in 1347 on the feast of the Annunciation, she exhibited an unusually independent character as a child and an exceptionally intense prayer life.

When she was 7 years old, she had the first of her mystical visions in which she saw Jesus surrounded by saints and seated in glory. In the same year, she vowed to consecrate her virginity to Christ.

When, at the age of 16, her parents decided that she should marry, she cut off her hair to make herself less appealing, and her father, realizing that he couldn’t contend with her resolve, let her have her way.

She joined the Dominican tertiaries and lived a deep and solitary life of prayer and meditation for the next three years in which she had constant mystical experiences, capped by the end of the three years with an extraordinary union with God granted to only a few mystics, known as “mystical marriage.”

St. Catherine suffered many periods of desolation alongside her mystical ecstasies, often feeling totally abandoned by God. She also tended to the sick, poor, and marginalized, especially lepers.

Her “Dialogue,” a spiritual classic, records her visions, which she dictated in a state of mystical ecstasy.

God called her to a more public life while she was still in her 20s, and she corresponded with many influential figures, advising, admonishing, and exhorting them to holiness, including the pope himself, whom she also rebuked when she saw fit.

She helped achieve peace when the Holy See and Florence were at war. While on her deathbed, she made possible the healing of the great schism between the followers of the legitimate pope, Urban VI, and those who opposed him.

She died in Rome on April 29, 1380, at the age of 33, and the stigmata appeared on her incorrupt body after her death. She was canonized by Pope Pius II on June 29, 1461.

She once said: “If you are what you should be, you will set the world ablaze.”

This story was first published on April 29, 2021, and has been updated.

Detail from St. Catherine of Siena from the circle of Baldassare Francheschini (17th century). / Credit: Baldassare Franceschini, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Vatican City, Apr 29, 2025 / 04:00 am (CNA).

On the feast of St. Catherine of Siena in 2021, Pope Francis expressed his hope that the “great female figure of faith” would continue to inspire a more joyful and fervent witness.

“The Holy Father hopes that, especially in the context of the 560th anniversary of the canonization of the Sienese saint, the example of such a generous disciple of Christ will foster in all an ever more joyful and fervent witness to faith and charity to promote the civilization of love,” Cardinal Pietro Parolin wrote in a telegram on behalf of the pope, published April 29, 2021.

The Vatican secretary of state sent the telegram to Cardinal Augusto Paolo Lojudice, the archbishop of Siena-Colle di Val d’Elsa-Montalcino, expressing the pope’s good wishes to Catholics in the archdiocese during their three-day celebration of their hometown saint.

St. Catherine of Siena is a doctor of the Church and co-patron of Europe. She played a pivotal role in ending the Avignon exile of the successors of Peter in the 14th century.

Born in Siena in 1347 on the feast of the Annunciation, she exhibited an unusually independent character as a child and an exceptionally intense prayer life.

When she was 7 years old, she had the first of her mystical visions in which she saw Jesus surrounded by saints and seated in glory. In the same year, she vowed to consecrate her virginity to Christ.

When, at the age of 16, her parents decided that she should marry, she cut off her hair to make herself less appealing, and her father, realizing that he couldn’t contend with her resolve, let her have her way.

She joined the Dominican tertiaries and lived a deep and solitary life of prayer and meditation for the next three years in which she had constant mystical experiences, capped by the end of the three years with an extraordinary union with God granted to only a few mystics, known as “mystical marriage.”

St. Catherine suffered many periods of desolation alongside her mystical ecstasies, often feeling totally abandoned by God. She also tended to the sick, poor, and marginalized, especially lepers.

Her “Dialogue,” a spiritual classic, records her visions, which she dictated in a state of mystical ecstasy.

God called her to a more public life while she was still in her 20s, and she corresponded with many influential figures, advising, admonishing, and exhorting them to holiness, including the pope himself, whom she also rebuked when she saw fit.

She helped achieve peace when the Holy See and Florence were at war. While on her deathbed, she made possible the healing of the great schism between the followers of the legitimate pope, Urban VI, and those who opposed him.

She died in Rome on April 29, 1380, at the age of 33, and the stigmata appeared on her incorrupt body after her death. She was canonized by Pope Pius II on June 29, 1461.

She once said: “If you are what you should be, you will set the world ablaze.”

This story was first published on April 29, 2021, and has been updated.

Cardinal Baldassare Reina, vicar general for the Diocese of Rome, preaches the homily during the third day of Novendiales Masses for Pope Francis at St. Peter’s Basilica on April 28, 2025. / Credit: Daniel Ibáñez/CNA

CNA Newsroom, Apr 28, 2025 / 19:06 pm (CNA).

Editor’s Note: On April 28, 2025, Cardinal Baldassare Reina, vicar general for the Diocese of Rome, delivered the following homily during the third day of Novendiales Masses for Pope Francis. The text below is a CNA working translation of the Italian original published by the Vatican.

My frail voice is here today to express the prayer and sorrow of a portion of the Church — that of Rome — bearing the weight of the responsibility history has assigned to her.

In these days, Rome is a people mourning its bishop — a people, together with other peoples, who have lined up, finding a space among the city’s places to weep and pray, like “sheep without a shepherd.”

Sheep without a shepherd: a metaphor that helps us gather the feelings of these days and enter into the depth of the image we have received from the Gospel of John — the grain of wheat that must die to bear fruit. A parable that tells of the shepherd’s love for his flock.

In this time, while the world is burning and few have the courage to proclaim the Gospel and translate it into a concrete and possible vision of the future, humanity appears like sheep without a shepherd. This image leaves the mouth of Jesus as he gazes upon the crowds following him.

Around him are the apostles, reporting all they had done and taught: the words, gestures, and actions learned from the Master — the proclamation of the coming kingdom of God, the call to conversion, and the signs that gave flesh to the words — a caress, an outstretched hand, disarmed speech, without judgment, liberating, unafraid of contact with impurity. In performing this service, necessary to awaken faith and hope — that evil would not have the last word, that life is stronger than death — they did not even have time to eat.

Jesus senses the weight of this — and that comforts us now.

Jesus, the true shepherd of history in need of salvation, knows the burden placed on each of us in continuing his mission, especially as we find ourselves searching for his first shepherd on earth.

As in the time of the first disciples, there are successes and also failures, fatigue, and fear. The horizon is immense, and temptations creep in that veil the one thing that matters: to desire, seek, and labor in anticipation of “a new heaven and a new earth.”

This cannot be the time for balancing acts, tactics, caution, instincts to turn back, or, worse, revenge and power alliances, but rather we need a radical disposition to enter into God’s dream entrusted to our poor hands.

At this moment, I am struck by what Revelation says: “I, John, saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband.”

A new heaven, a new earth, a new Jerusalem.

Faced with the announcement of this newness, we cannot yield to that mental and spiritual laziness that ties us to past experiences of God and ecclesial practices, desiring they repeat endlessly, subdued by the fear of the losses required by necessary change.

I think of the multiple reform processes of Church life initiated by Pope Francis, which extend beyond religious affiliations. People recognized him as a universal pastor. These people carry concern in their hearts, and I seem to discern in them a question: What will become of the processes that have begun?

Our duty must be to discern and order what has begun, in light of what our mission demands of us, moving toward a new heaven and a new earth, adorning the Bride (the Church) for the Bridegroom.

Otherwise, we risk clothing the Bride according to worldly fashions, guided by ideological claims that tear the unity of Christ’s garment.

To seek a shepherd today means above all to seek a guide who knows how to manage the fear of loss in the face of the demands of the Gospel.

To seek a shepherd who bears the gaze of Jesus — the epiphany of God’s humanity in a world marked by inhumanity.

To seek a shepherd who confirms that we must walk together, integrating ministries and charisms: We are the people of God, constituted to proclaim the Gospel.

When Jesus sees the people following him, he feels compassion stir within him: He sees women, men, children, the elderly, the sick, the poor — and no one caring for them, no one feeding their hunger — the hunger of life turned harsh, and the hunger for the Word. Before these people, he feels himself to be their bread that will not fail, their water that quenches thirst endlessly, the balm that heals wounds.

He feels the same compassion Moses felt when, at the end of his days, from the heights of Mount Abarim, facing the Promised Land he would not enter, gazed upon the multitude he had guided and prayed to the Lord lest they become a flock without a shepherd.

That prayer is now our prayer — the prayer of the whole Church and of all men and women who ask to be guided and supported amid the struggles of life, among doubts and contradictions, orphans of a word that can guide them amid siren songs flattering instincts of self-redemption, that break solitude, gather the discarded, refuse to yield to tyranny, and dare not to bend the Gospel to tragic compromises of fear, worldly complicities, or blind, deaf alliances against the signs of the Holy Spirit.

The compassion of Jesus is the compassion of the prophets who reveal God’s suffering at seeing his people scattered and abused by bad shepherds — mercenaries who exploit the flock and flee at the sight of the wolf. Bad shepherds care nothing for the sheep, abandoning them to danger — and thus they are snatched and scattered.

But the good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.

This radical disposition of the shepherd is narrated in the Gospel of John proclaimed in this Eucharistic liturgy — a testimony of how Jesus could see beyond death, to the hour that would glorify his mission: the hour of death on the cross, revealing unconditional love for all.

“If the grain of wheat that falls to the ground does not die, it remains just a grain of wheat.” The grain that sought the earth through the incarnation of the Word, falling to raise those who had fallen, coming to seek the lost.

His death is a sowing that leaves us suspended in that hour, when the seed is no longer visible, hidden by the earth that causes us to fear it has been lost. A suspension that could anguish us but instead can become the threshold of hope, a fissure in doubt, a light in the night, a garden of Easter.

The promised fruitfulness belongs to this disposition to death: to become wheat ground down, hostage to infidelity and ingratitude — to which Jesus, the good shepherd who lays down his life for his sheep, responds with forgiveness, praying to the Father while abandoned by his friends.

The good shepherd sows through his death, forgiving his enemies, preferring their salvation — the salvation of all — over his own.

If we want to be faithful to the Lord, to the grain of wheat fallen to the earth, we must sow our lives as well.

And how can we not recall the psalm: “Those who sow in tears shall reap with songs of joy”?

There are times, like ours, when, as the farmer to whom the psalmist refers, sowing becomes an extreme gesture, driven by the radicality of faith.

It is a time of famine — the seed thrown to the earth is drawn from the last reserve without which one dies. The farmer weeps because he knows that this final act demands risking his life.

But God does not abandon his people. He does not forsake his shepherds. He will not allow, just as with his Son, that they be left in the tomb of the earth.

Our faith safeguards the promise of a joyful harvest — but it must pass through the death of the seed that is our life.

That extreme, total, exhausting gesture of the sower made me think of Pope Francis’ Easter Sunday, of that outpouring of blessings and embraces to his people, the day before he died. The final act of his tireless sowing of the announcement of God’s mercies. Thank you, Pope Francis.

Mary, the holy Virgin whom we in Rome venerate as “Salus populi romani,” who now stands beside and watches over his mortal remains, receive his soul and protect us as we continue his mission. Amen.

Cardinal Baldassare Reina, vicar general for the Diocese of Rome, preaches the homily during the third day of Novendiales Masses for Pope Francis at St. Peter’s Basilica on April 28, 2025. / Credit: Daniel Ibáñez/CNA

CNA Newsroom, Apr 28, 2025 / 19:06 pm (CNA).

Editor’s Note: On April 28, 2025, Cardinal Baldassare Reina, vicar general for the Diocese of Rome, delivered the following homily during the third day of Novendiales Masses for Pope Francis. The text below is a CNA working translation of the Italian original published by the Vatican.

My frail voice is here today to express the prayer and sorrow of a portion of the Church — that of Rome — bearing the weight of the responsibility history has assigned to her.

In these days, Rome is a people mourning its bishop — a people, together with other peoples, who have lined up, finding a space among the city’s places to weep and pray, like “sheep without a shepherd.”

Sheep without a shepherd: a metaphor that helps us gather the feelings of these days and enter into the depth of the image we have received from the Gospel of John — the grain of wheat that must die to bear fruit. A parable that tells of the shepherd’s love for his flock.

In this time, while the world is burning and few have the courage to proclaim the Gospel and translate it into a concrete and possible vision of the future, humanity appears like sheep without a shepherd. This image leaves the mouth of Jesus as he gazes upon the crowds following him.

Around him are the apostles, reporting all they had done and taught: the words, gestures, and actions learned from the Master — the proclamation of the coming kingdom of God, the call to conversion, and the signs that gave flesh to the words — a caress, an outstretched hand, disarmed speech, without judgment, liberating, unafraid of contact with impurity. In performing this service, necessary to awaken faith and hope — that evil would not have the last word, that life is stronger than death — they did not even have time to eat.

Jesus senses the weight of this — and that comforts us now.

Jesus, the true shepherd of history in need of salvation, knows the burden placed on each of us in continuing his mission, especially as we find ourselves searching for his first shepherd on earth.

As in the time of the first disciples, there are successes and also failures, fatigue, and fear. The horizon is immense, and temptations creep in that veil the one thing that matters: to desire, seek, and labor in anticipation of “a new heaven and a new earth.”

This cannot be the time for balancing acts, tactics, caution, instincts to turn back, or, worse, revenge and power alliances, but rather we need a radical disposition to enter into God’s dream entrusted to our poor hands.

At this moment, I am struck by what Revelation says: “I, John, saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband.”

A new heaven, a new earth, a new Jerusalem.

Faced with the announcement of this newness, we cannot yield to that mental and spiritual laziness that ties us to past experiences of God and ecclesial practices, desiring they repeat endlessly, subdued by the fear of the losses required by necessary change.

I think of the multiple reform processes of Church life initiated by Pope Francis, which extend beyond religious affiliations. People recognized him as a universal pastor. These people carry concern in their hearts, and I seem to discern in them a question: What will become of the processes that have begun?

Our duty must be to discern and order what has begun, in light of what our mission demands of us, moving toward a new heaven and a new earth, adorning the Bride (the Church) for the Bridegroom.

Otherwise, we risk clothing the Bride according to worldly fashions, guided by ideological claims that tear the unity of Christ’s garment.

To seek a shepherd today means above all to seek a guide who knows how to manage the fear of loss in the face of the demands of the Gospel.

To seek a shepherd who bears the gaze of Jesus — the epiphany of God’s humanity in a world marked by inhumanity.

To seek a shepherd who confirms that we must walk together, integrating ministries and charisms: We are the people of God, constituted to proclaim the Gospel.

When Jesus sees the people following him, he feels compassion stir within him: He sees women, men, children, the elderly, the sick, the poor — and no one caring for them, no one feeding their hunger — the hunger of life turned harsh, and the hunger for the Word. Before these people, he feels himself to be their bread that will not fail, their water that quenches thirst endlessly, the balm that heals wounds.

He feels the same compassion Moses felt when, at the end of his days, from the heights of Mount Abarim, facing the Promised Land he would not enter, gazed upon the multitude he had guided and prayed to the Lord lest they become a flock without a shepherd.

That prayer is now our prayer — the prayer of the whole Church and of all men and women who ask to be guided and supported amid the struggles of life, among doubts and contradictions, orphans of a word that can guide them amid siren songs flattering instincts of self-redemption, that break solitude, gather the discarded, refuse to yield to tyranny, and dare not to bend the Gospel to tragic compromises of fear, worldly complicities, or blind, deaf alliances against the signs of the Holy Spirit.

The compassion of Jesus is the compassion of the prophets who reveal God’s suffering at seeing his people scattered and abused by bad shepherds — mercenaries who exploit the flock and flee at the sight of the wolf. Bad shepherds care nothing for the sheep, abandoning them to danger — and thus they are snatched and scattered.

But the good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.

This radical disposition of the shepherd is narrated in the Gospel of John proclaimed in this Eucharistic liturgy — a testimony of how Jesus could see beyond death, to the hour that would glorify his mission: the hour of death on the cross, revealing unconditional love for all.

“If the grain of wheat that falls to the ground does not die, it remains just a grain of wheat.” The grain that sought the earth through the incarnation of the Word, falling to raise those who had fallen, coming to seek the lost.

His death is a sowing that leaves us suspended in that hour, when the seed is no longer visible, hidden by the earth that causes us to fear it has been lost. A suspension that could anguish us but instead can become the threshold of hope, a fissure in doubt, a light in the night, a garden of Easter.

The promised fruitfulness belongs to this disposition to death: to become wheat ground down, hostage to infidelity and ingratitude — to which Jesus, the good shepherd who lays down his life for his sheep, responds with forgiveness, praying to the Father while abandoned by his friends.

The good shepherd sows through his death, forgiving his enemies, preferring their salvation — the salvation of all — over his own.

If we want to be faithful to the Lord, to the grain of wheat fallen to the earth, we must sow our lives as well.

And how can we not recall the psalm: “Those who sow in tears shall reap with songs of joy”?

There are times, like ours, when, as the farmer to whom the psalmist refers, sowing becomes an extreme gesture, driven by the radicality of faith.

It is a time of famine — the seed thrown to the earth is drawn from the last reserve without which one dies. The farmer weeps because he knows that this final act demands risking his life.

But God does not abandon his people. He does not forsake his shepherds. He will not allow, just as with his Son, that they be left in the tomb of the earth.

Our faith safeguards the promise of a joyful harvest — but it must pass through the death of the seed that is our life.

That extreme, total, exhausting gesture of the sower made me think of Pope Francis’ Easter Sunday, of that outpouring of blessings and embraces to his people, the day before he died. The final act of his tireless sowing of the announcement of God’s mercies. Thank you, Pope Francis.

Mary, the holy Virgin whom we in Rome venerate as “Salus populi romani,” who now stands beside and watches over his mortal remains, receive his soul and protect us as we continue his mission. Amen.

Cardinal Baldassare Reina celebrates Mass on Day 3 of the Novendiales Masses for Pope Francis on April 28, 2025, in St. Peter’s Basilica at the Vatican. / Credit: Daniel Ibañez/CNA

CNA Newsroom, Apr 28, 2025 / 18:42 pm (CNA).

Cardinal Baldassare Reina urged the faithful to “discern and order” the late pontiff’s reform initiatives while acknowledging the sense of loss felt by Rome’s Catholics in his homily on the third day of “Novendiales” Masses for Pope Francis.

Speaking at St. Peter’s Basilica on Monday, April 28, the 54-year-old vicar general for the Diocese of Rome described how the faithful feel like “sheep without a shepherd” following the pontiff’s death.

“I think of the multiple reform processes of Church life initiated by Pope Francis, which extend beyond religious affiliations. People recognized him as a universal pastor,” Reina said. “These people carry concern in their hearts, and I seem to discern in them a question: What will become of the processes that have begun?”

The Italian cardinal, who will vote in the conclave scheduled to begin May 7, said that true fidelity requires continuing the path set by Pope Francis rather than retreating from it.

“Our duty must be to discern and order what has begun, in light of what our mission demands of us, moving toward a new heaven and a new earth, adorning the Bride (the Church) for the Bridegroom,” he stated.

Drawing on the Gospel of John, Reina reflected on the parable of the grain of wheat that must die to bear fruit, comparing it to Christians becoming “seeds” willing to be spent for new life. He warned against responding to current challenges with fear or worldly compromise.

“This cannot be the time for balancing acts, tactics, caution, instincts to turn back, or, worse, revenge and power alliances, but rather we need a radical disposition to enter into God’s dream entrusted to our poor hands,” the cardinal emphasized.

He concluded his homily with a tribute to Pope Francis, comparing the pontiff’s final Easter Sunday appearance to the radical act of sowing described in Scripture: “That extreme, total, exhausting gesture of the sower made me think of Pope Francis’ Easter Sunday, of that outpouring of blessings and embraces to his people, the day before he died. The final act of his tireless sowing of the announcement of God’s mercies. Thank you, Pope Francis.”

In closing, the cardinal invoked the Blessed Virgin Mary, venerated in Rome as “Salus Populi Romani,” to accompany and protect the Church.

Cardinal Baldassare Reina celebrates Mass on Day 3 of the Novendiales Masses for Pope Francis on April 28, 2025, in St. Peter’s Basilica at the Vatican. / Credit: Daniel Ibañez/CNA

CNA Newsroom, Apr 28, 2025 / 18:42 pm (CNA).

Cardinal Baldassare Reina urged the faithful to “discern and order” the late pontiff’s reform initiatives while acknowledging the sense of loss felt by Rome’s Catholics in his homily on the third day of “Novendiales” Masses for Pope Francis.

Speaking at St. Peter’s Basilica on Monday, April 28, the 54-year-old vicar general for the Diocese of Rome described how the faithful feel like “sheep without a shepherd” following the pontiff’s death.

“I think of the multiple reform processes of Church life initiated by Pope Francis, which extend beyond religious affiliations. People recognized him as a universal pastor,” Reina said. “These people carry concern in their hearts, and I seem to discern in them a question: What will become of the processes that have begun?”

The Italian cardinal, who will vote in the conclave scheduled to begin May 7, said that true fidelity requires continuing the path set by Pope Francis rather than retreating from it.

“Our duty must be to discern and order what has begun, in light of what our mission demands of us, moving toward a new heaven and a new earth, adorning the Bride (the Church) for the Bridegroom,” he stated.

Drawing on the Gospel of John, Reina reflected on the parable of the grain of wheat that must die to bear fruit, comparing it to Christians becoming “seeds” willing to be spent for new life. He warned against responding to current challenges with fear or worldly compromise.

“This cannot be the time for balancing acts, tactics, caution, instincts to turn back, or, worse, revenge and power alliances, but rather we need a radical disposition to enter into God’s dream entrusted to our poor hands,” the cardinal emphasized.

He concluded his homily with a tribute to Pope Francis, comparing the pontiff’s final Easter Sunday appearance to the radical act of sowing described in Scripture: “That extreme, total, exhausting gesture of the sower made me think of Pope Francis’ Easter Sunday, of that outpouring of blessings and embraces to his people, the day before he died. The final act of his tireless sowing of the announcement of God’s mercies. Thank you, Pope Francis.”

In closing, the cardinal invoked the Blessed Virgin Mary, venerated in Rome as “Salus Populi Romani,” to accompany and protect the Church.

In July 2022, Imán Nader and her family were able to greet Pope Francis after the general audience. / Credit: Vatican Media

Vatican City, Apr 28, 2025 / 17:28 pm (CNA).

“Pope Francis was a courageous man. He always sought peace. He looked at everyone with the same eyes, whether you were Black or white, and he didn’t care about your religion or what was written in your passport. He wanted to help everyone,” said Imán Nader, still quite moved by the experience of witnessing from the front rows of St. Peter’s Square the funeral of the man who changed her life.

In addition to the more than 140 international delegations who participated in the solemn celebration of Pope Francis’ funeral Mass, a group of homeless people and several immigrant families also sat in the front rows. In total, there were 40 people seated there who had experienced Pope Francis’ tenderness firsthand during his 12-year pontificate. 

Among them was the 31-year-old Kurdish woman, along with her four children and husband, who had to flee Iraq in the face of the Islamic State’s furious violence and the lack of basic services and opportunities for the future.

But her attempt to reach Europe left her stuck on the Mediterranean island of Cyprus, where she and her family were stranded in a refugee camp for more than two years. Then she met the pope during his apostolic journey to the country in 2021.

“He saved us,” Nader told ACI Prensa, CNA’s Spanish-language news partner, after having experienced the terrible living conditions they endured in the refugee camp, without adequate drinking water or food, and living in a tent with a plastic roof that barely protected them from the rain.

“I have always trusted and loved God. I prayed a lot to have a better life than this, and God responded by sending me Pope Francis, who has been our angel,” she related.

In fact, their meeting was completely fortuitous. Or rather, it came out of the blue. They learned through the media that Pope Francis was traveling to Cyprus, and the family, who is Muslim, wanted to see up close that man dressed in white who spoke so much of peace and brotherhood.

Thus on Dec. 3, 2021, they were able to go to Holy Cross Church in Nicosia. Nader sat — covered with her usual hijab — in the back pew, not wanting to attract too much attention. But the pontiff noticed her immediately and as he left, he gave her a firm handshake and gave her his best smile.

What Nader didn’t know at the time was that that moment would change her life and that of her family forever. Near her was Silvina Pérez, editor of the Spanish edition of L’Osservatore Romano. They exchanged phone numbers and kept in contact with each other for several weeks. Until one day, Nader got up her courage and asked her for the impossible: to escape that hellish refugee camp.

The journalist began pulling strings to try to change the family’s fate and include them on the list of those selected to be part of the humanitarian corridors coordinated by the Sant’Egidio Community.

But it was quite complicated, so she called Pope Francis directly, who didn’t hesitate for a second to mediate on behalf of Nader’s family and cover all travel expenses.

“When they told us we would be leaving that horrible place, I couldn’t believe it. It was a tremendous gift from Pope Francis. Today, we all mourn the death of Pope Francis. For me, he was the best religious leader I have ever seen,” Nader said filled with emotion.

Nader and her family arrived in Rome in March 2022. During this time, they learned Italian, their children attend public school, and both parents work in the restaurant industry. 

Over these three years, they met Pope Francis several times. In July 2022, they were able to greet Pope Francis after the general audience in St. Peter’s Square at the Vatican thanks to the mediation of Spanish journalist Eva Fernández, who helped them write a message in Spanish that summarized their gratitude: “Thank you for bringing us to Italy! My children now have a better life than in Iraq and Cyprus. Thank you for allowing us to be your neighbors!”

The most recent time they met the pope was on Feb. 5, shortly before Pope Francis was admitted to Gemelli Hospital in Rome, where he underwent treatment for double pneumonia. “On that occasion, he confessed to me that he was very ill and that he felt tired, but I never imagined that would be the last time I would see him,” Nader shared.

This story was first published by ACI Prensa, CNA’s Spanish-language news partner. It has been translated and adapted by CNA.