by Bro. Alberto Parise MCCJ
Context and Motivations of the Document
There was much anticipation for the first document signed by Pope Leo XIV. As we know, a pope’s first document often outlines the main directions of his pontificate. When the apostolic exhortation Dilexi Te was released, I was initially surprised, because it is neither a programmatic document—like Evangelii Gaudium—nor, strictly speaking, a document of the Church’s social teaching, which might have been expected given the pope’s choice of the name Leo. As Pope Leo himself explained, this choice referred to Leo XIII, who addressed the “new things” of his era brought about by the Industrial Revolution and inaugurated the modern tradition of Catholic social teaching.
I then asked myself why Pope Leo chose to write this document, and I found the answer within it. First, Dilexi Te is a sign of communion and continuity with the teaching of Pope Francis. In fact, Pope Francis had begun preparing a document on the Church’s care for the poor, in continuity with Dilexit Nos (DT 3), and had already chosen the title Dilexi Te. Pope Leo adopted that draft, enriching it with his own reflections. Reading the document, I felt invited to do the same: to appreciate the profound connection between Christ’s love and his call to care for the poor, while adding our own reflections based on our ministerial experience and the charism of our Congregation.
The text also provides valuable insights into the historical context that motivated this apostolic exhortation. On one hand, it responds to the prevailing culture of indifference and disposal that would have us abandon the poor to their fate, considering them unworthy of attention or respect (DT 105). Today, there is a growing tendency to blame the poor for their condition, while inequality and exclusion expand exponentially. The dominant worldview exalts wealth and social success at any cost—even at the expense of others—by taking advantage of unjust social and political systems that favor the powerful (DT 11).
On the other hand, Pope Leo expresses concern that such attitudes are even infiltrating the Church (DT 15). Some Christians ridicule charitable works or reject almsgiving under the pretext of avoiding “dependency,” forgetting that these acts are essential means of contact, encounter, and empathy with the poor (DT 115). Others focus solely on prayer and orthodoxy, claiming that care for the poor is the responsibility of the State. Still others, including some within consecrated life, dismiss social ministry, integral human development, and integral ecology as mere “NGO work.” In response, Dilexi Te seeks to show that concern for the poor has always been an essential dimension of the Church’s identity.
Furthermore, we should not forget that Pope Francis launched a process of renewal in the Church—both spiritual and structural—marked by a distinctly pastoral outlook. Dilexi Te emphasizes that one of the constants in every movement of ecclesial renewal has been the preferential option for the poor (DT 103).
The Approach of the Document
At its core, Dilexi Te adopts a Christological perspective to explore the relationship between the Church and the poor. This relationship is rooted in the mystery of the Incarnation. Jesus himself was radically poor: he emptied himself, and his poverty became the foundation of his mission to reveal God’s boundless love for humanity. Poverty marked every aspect of his life. As the exhortation notes, he was a poor Messiah—but also a Messiah of and for the poor.
Jesus identifies with the poor to such an extent that whatever we do for “the least of these,” we do for him. In other words, there is a sacramental presence of Jesus in the poor (DT 44). Drawing near to them allows us to encounter Christ anew in a way that is transformative and life-giving.
DT recalls that Jesus learned from the Father a preferential love for the poor, moved by compassion for humanity’s weakness (DT 16). Seeking to inaugurate a kingdom of justice, fraternity, and solidarity, God shows a special love for those who are discriminated against and oppressed, and calls the Church to make a decisive and radical choice in favor of the weakest. Pope Leo reminds us that “for Christians, the poor are not a sociological category, but the very flesh of Christ. It is not enough to profess the doctrine of the Incarnation in general terms. To enter truly into this mystery, we must understand that the Lord took on flesh that hungers and thirsts, and that experiences infirmity and imprisonment” (DT 110).
Jesus not only identifies with the poor but directs his mission primarily toward them. Bringing humanity closer to God is, above all, a work of liberation for those bound by evil, weakness, and poverty (DT 21). He showed compassion toward the sick and sinners—those marginalized by society. Thus, the Church’s commitment to the integral development of the most neglected members of society flows directly from her faith in Christ, who became poor, remained close to the poor and outcast (DT 23), and proclaimed to them the good news: “God is near; God loves you” (DT 21).
A Historical Excursus: Love for the Poor Through the Ages
Inspired by this Christological foundation, Religious Institutes throughout history have made visible different dimensions of Jesus’ presence among the poor—Jesus proclaiming the good news as healer, teacher, liberator—helping people experience the reality of God’s kingdom. Major social transformations have often generated new forms of poverty, prompting new ecclesial responses: for example, the rise of the mendicant orders in the 13th century or ministries to migrants in the 19th. Love embodied in compassionate action has always been a genuine force for change, inspiring efforts to address the structural causes of poverty (DT 91). From the early Church Fathers onward, the link between love of Christ and social justice has been clear. Pope Leo quotes St. John Chrysostom and St. Ambrose, who condemned indifference to the poor as a form of theft (DT 39–43).
A major shift occurred during the Industrial Revolution. With new tools of social analysis, the Church began developing her social teaching. This marked a radical innovation: viewing reality in systemic terms, discerning the structural roots of social ills, and identifying social sin—the collective selfishness and indifference that become embedded in social systems (DT 93).
The Church’s social teaching thus reflects theologically on sinful structures that perpetuate poverty and inequality. As the exhortation notes, quoting Evangelii Gaudium (EG 202), welfare projects that address immediate needs are only provisional solutions. They remain inadequate unless structural injustices are recognized and transformed through a change of mindset and effective policies for social change (DT 97).
Pope Francis has repeatedly emphasized that we are not merely living in an era of change, but in a change of era—a new epoch as significant as the Industrial Revolution. Regarding poverty, Pope Leo insists that we must continue to denounce the “dictatorship of an economy that kills” and expose the growing inequalities that result from it. Such imbalance, he writes,
“is the result of ideologies that defend the absolute autonomy of the marketplace and financial speculation. Consequently, they reject the right of States, charged with vigilance for the common good, to exercise any form of control. A new tyranny is being born, invisible and often virtual, which unilaterally and relentlessly imposes its own laws and rules” (DT 92).
One of the most significant signs of our times—linking historical events with the coming of God’s kingdom—is the rise of popular movements. Pope Francis perceived their importance and began meeting regularly with movements advocating for the rights to work, housing, and land. These movements reveal that marginalized communities are not mere recipients of aid, but agents of transformation working for a more just, fraternal, and sustainable world (DT 100). True transformation must be participatory and bottom-up—rooted in solidarity as the way to make history. They challenge us to move beyond social policies for the poor toward processes with and of the poor (DT 81), embodying what Pope Francis describes through the image of the polyhedron (EG 236). This figure represents unity in diversity: a whole composed of distinct and unique parts, each maintaining its identity.
Within this model, healing human relationships requires inclusive, ongoing dialogue that marginalizes no one. In the social polyhedron, the poor have an active and creative place, along with their culture and wisdom. Recognizing this requires humility: individuals and groups represent only partial perspectives, yet together—united with others and with creation—they can build a world that genuinely cares for all and for our common home.
The ultimate goal, in both pastoral work and politics, is to shape a society that resembles a polyhedron: one that promotes participation and unity without erasing difference. Such respectful integration heals not only relationships among human beings but also our relationship with creation and, ultimately, with God, whose image shines through the diversity of creation.
Conclusion
At this point, we may ask what the Holy Spirit is inviting Religious Congregations to discern in the signs of the times. They no longer seem to play the role of protagonists in social transformation, yet Dilexi Te affirms that their presence among the poor—sharing their life and struggles—is one of the highest forms of evangelical witness (DT 101). Religious are called to be evangelized by the poor, recognizing the mysterious wisdom that God communicates through them and through popular movements (DT 102).
Although sociologists credit the Church as the “mother of social work,” the social Gospel lived by Religious differs fundamentally in spirit and method from humanitarian action: it is a ministry of evangelization. It proclaims the Gospel, affirms the poor’s right to celebrate and communicate their faith, and values the cultural richness present among them (DT 100).
Solidarity with the poor and accompaniment in their struggles is not simply activism—it is a grace that transforms both giver and receiver. Through this mutual transformation, an authentic process of intercultural encounter unfolds, revealing God’s love made flesh among the least of our brothers and sisters.
