President Meloni’s address to joint session of Parliament to commemorate Pope Francis

Mr Presidents, Honourable Colleagues,

we are here in this hall today to pay homage to a great man and a great Pontiff, who guided the Church with prophetic signs in complex and certainly unpredictable times.

Remembering Pope Francis does not simply mean paying tribute to a truly key figure of our era, but also talking about a man who, also for me personally, represented much more.

I had the privilege of having a personal, sincere, relationship with the Pontiff. This made me understand what was perhaps the most extraordinary aspect of how he interpreted the papacy. Pope Francis was a man who certainly knew how to be determined, but when you spoke with him, there were no barriers. He didn’t create any distance with the people he spoke to. You felt at ease with him and you could speak about anything. You could open up and tell him about yourself, without any filters, and without fear of being judged. That way he could see your soul, see it laid bare. He wanted to listen to you, as if for him this meant saying “I am here for you”. He did this for everyone, he did this with everyone. And he made you feel precious, being unique and one-of-a-kind, as indeed are all human beings born on this Earth. 

I will always be grateful to Pope Francis for the time we spent together, for his teachings, for his advice. As has been mentioned, his most frequent piece of advice was “never lose your sense of humour”. This was also the last thing he said to me. There was profound meaning in this too, of course. His contagious joy, until the very end, was a lesson about loving life, and how to carry out certain missions.

He told pilgrims, “it is sad to see a priest, a religious person or a monarch who has become bitter”. I believe he meant that you cannot guide others if you don’t know how to convey joy in what you do.

Pope Francis knew how to convey his joy and passion for his mission. He also knew how to convey its difficulty, and this gave his joy a much greater value. He fulfilled his mission until the very last day, when he imparted the “Urbi et Orbi” Blessing and embraced the faithful at St. Peter’s. And, in the simple words he whispered to his nurse, “thank you for bringing me back to the Square”, he summed up perhaps the most significant representation of his entire papacy.

Everyone has said it. The world will remember Pope Francis as the Pope of the people, of the lowliest, of the invisible, of the poor, of physical and existential margins. He knew he could use his voice to give a voice back to those who did not have one, and he did so also by defying conventions, for he said “do not be afraid of going against the tide if you want to do something good”. That is how this Pope from far away managed to reach all the way into people’s hearts.  

Pope Francis was able to interpret many things in a new way, starting with international relations. This has also been mentioned. He said that “diplomacy is an exercise of humility, since it demands that we sacrifice something of our self-regard in order to build a relationship with others, to understand their thinking and points of view”. And we intend to keep that lesson alive.

This was the common thread that ran through his travels, hence why they have gone down in history. I too remember the opening of the Holy Door for the Jubilee of Mercy in the Central African Republic, a land bloodied by ethnic and religious conflict, and his journey to the land of Abraham, Iraq, where in March 2021 he embraced Christians and Yazidis persecuted by terrorism. Pope Francis never stopped calling for peace and an end to the wars that so wound humanity, from the “battered” Ukraine to the Middle East, to the Sahel. He did so even when he knew that some may not have understood, and that his words could have been misrepresented and instrumentalised. However, for us today, his multiple appeals for peace represent a further call to responsibility.

As a global leader, he drew the world’s attention to the major challenges of our time, from defending Creation through to artificial intelligence. He introduced the concept of ‘algorethics’ – giving ethics to algorithms – calling for the development of new technology to respect the inviolability of humankind’s centrality. And when I asked him to participate in the G7 Summit to deliver this message, he did not hesitate. Myself, the Government and Italy will forever be grateful to him for this too, for having given us the gift of his historic attendance, as it was the first time a pontiff had ever participated in a working session of the Group of Seven.

And on that occasion, among the many messages he gave us, there is one that touches everyone in this hall.

The Holy Father said that “politics is necessary” and that “in the face of many petty forms of politics focused on immediate interests, true statecraft is manifest when, in difficult times, we uphold high principles and think of the long-term common good”.

As Pontiff, he lived through what he himself defined not merely an era of change, but a real change of era. And, look, in this regard, the frequent use of some expressions sometimes risks making them lose their meaning: a change of era impacts every level of human life – religious, social, political. It means contending with unimaginable challenges, without being able to draw from past experiences which would otherwise provide reassurance. For those with leadership roles, a change of era means factoring in uncertainties, setbacks and taking on responsibilities that are more difficult than usual.

Pope Francis took on these responsibilities, indicating to us some essential things which we must hold onto: the infinite value of the person, the principle of reality, courage.

Trying to live up to this teaching is our way of saying thank you to this extraordinary man and Pontiff, who has returned to the home of the Father, yes, but will continue to smile upon us and guide us.

A Dio, Pope Francis.