Pope Leo XIV held a special Jubilee Audience during the Advent Season. The Pope emphasized that Advent teaches believers how to wait with active hope. Waiting for the fulfillment of creation is not passive; God involves people in His work. Hoping means actively participating and taking part in God's story, not waiting passively. Christians must 'read the signs of the times' to seek God in the realities of daily life.
10 days ago
Pope Leo XIV addressed the faithful during a special Jubilee Audience on December 6, 2025, focusing on the Advent season as a time of preparation for Christmas.1
He emphasized that Advent invites believers to recognize Jesus in everyday life by attentively observing the "signs of the times."1
The Pope described waiting during Advent as an active process, not passive idleness, where God involves humanity in His redemptive work.1
"To hope, then, is to participate," he stated, linking this to the Jubilee 2025 theme of "Pilgrims of Hope," which extends beyond the event into lifelong commitment.1
This active hope requires engaging with the world intelligently, wholeheartedly, and through practical actions, as God is present in daily realities.1
Laypeople are particularly called to this mission, encountering the Incarnate God amid life's challenges and joys.1
Drawing from the Second Vatican Council, the Pope urged Christians to discern God's presence in historical events, rolling up their sleeves to serve.1
He stressed that seeking Jesus means looking beyond detachment, actively contributing to the Kingdom of God.1
Pope Leo XIV highlighted the example of Alberto Marvelli, a 20th-century Italian Catholic Action member who rebuilt post-World War II Italy.1
Marvelli risked his life in politics and died tragically while heading to a rally, embodying the idea that true progress comes from sacrificing personal comfort for the common good.1
"This is participation," the Pope noted, illustrating how individual actions improve the world.1
In closing, the Pope encouraged reflection on whether believers joyfully use their talents to serve others and advance God's Kingdom.1
He affirmed that hope is a divine gift fostering collaboration: "No one saves the world alone. Not even God wants to save it alone: He could, but He does not want to, because together is better."1
Advent: active hope versus passive waiting in Catholic theology
In Catholic theology, Advent is far more than a season of quiet anticipation; it embodies a dynamic tension between waiting for Christ's coming and actively living out the hope that this promise inspires. Rooted in the Church's liturgical tradition, Advent invites believers to renew their desire for the Messiah's first and second comings through conversion, prayer, and compassionate action. This active hope counters any notion of passive waiting, urging the faithful to engage boldly with the world's sufferings while trusting in God's ultimate fulfillment. As the Church teaches, true hope transforms the present moment, making every instant meaningful rather than burdensome. Drawing from papal homilies, the Catechism, and liturgical guidelines, this analysis explores how Advent fosters an engaged spirituality that sows seeds of renewal amid desolation.
Advent, spanning four weeks before Christmas, commemorates the ancient expectancy of the Messiah while preparing for Christ's glorious return. The Catechism of the Catholic Church explains that through the Advent liturgy, the faithful relive the long preparation for the Savior's first coming, thereby rekindling their ardent longing for the second. This is not mere reminiscence but an active participation: by uniting with John the Baptist's call to repentance—"He must increase, but I must decrease" (Jn 3:30)—believers decrease their self-centeredness to make room for Christ's transformative presence.
The Directory on Popular Piety and the Liturgy further illuminates Advent as a time of "waiting-memory" for Christ's humble incarnation and "waiting-supplication" for his final judgment, intertwined with conversion and joyful hope. Quoting the prophets and John the Baptist, the liturgy repeatedly invokes, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand" (Mt 3:2), emphasizing that hope matures through active grace in the world, leading to the beatific vision: "we shall become like him for we shall see him as he really is" (1 Jn 3:2). Here, waiting is not inert but a kairós—a favorable time for salvation—where believers actively perceive God's gifts in the present, as Pope Benedict XVI described in his reflection on First Vespers. Time filled with meaning through prayer and the Psalms turns expectation into a journey toward the Kingdom, where Christ accompanies every step. In the Eucharist, this active dimension peaks: the Church celebrates while "awaiting the blessed hope and the coming of our Savior, Jesus Christ," veiling his presence yet anticipating full glory.
Successive popes have consistently framed Advent's hope as antithetical to passivity, calling for vigilance, labor, and compassion. Pope John Paul II, in a 1990 homily, urged fidelity to God's unchanging word, drawing from St. Paul to the Thessalonians: believers must remain "awake" and "laborious," like the virtuous woman in Proverbs, profiting from received gifts with creative generosity. Crossing one's arms in sterile resignation, expecting everything from God without effort, is unacceptable; instead, Advent demands service to the Kingdom, transforming hope into fruitful works.
Pope Benedict XVI echoed this in 2009, warning that empty waiting makes time unbearable, but hope infuses the present with joy, making it "precious." Advent reawakens the mystery of Christ, the expected Messiah born in Bethlehem's poverty, who speaks through Scripture, saints, and daily events. Even in suffering, his presence ensures no time lacks meaning, fostering confident pilgrimage. Earlier, in 2008, Benedict portrayed Advent as "walking in" the Lord's parousia—a spiritual reality already begun with Christ's Resurrection—where the Church becomes "hope" itself through prayer and expectation. Psalms 141 and 142 exemplify this: human cries become divine invocations, drawing believers into God's coming.
More recently, Pope Francis' 2024 Christmas homily intensified this call, invoking the shepherds' haste to the manger. Amid wars, bombed schools, and global desolation, Christians must recover lost hope "with haste," sowing seeds without delay. Hope is no passive "happy ending" but a promise to embrace now, upsetting wrongs and courageously changing them, as St. Augustine taught. It rejects complacency, faux prudence, or self-focused detachment, demanding boldness, responsibility, and compassion—suffering "with" others. Pope Leo XIV, in his 2025 Jubilee catecheses, builds on this by likening hope to "intuiting" God's revelations through humble docility, as in St. Ambrose's story. Believers, from parents to priests, must actively follow the Holy Spirit's inspirations, becoming childlike seekers of Church renewal. In another audience, he urged "digging" like early Christians unearthing sacred sites, clearing pride to uncover Christ's friendship—the true treasure.
Catholic theology sharply distinguishes Advent's hope from passive waiting, which risks lethargy or indifference. Passive attitudes—tarrying in old habits, mediocrity, or fear of involvement—stifle the Kingdom's growth. As Benedict noted, without meaning, expectation burdens; but Christ's presence enlivens it, turning history into a path of justice and peace. John Paul II warned against "sterile resignation," insisting on laborious fidelity.
In the 2025 Jubilee Year of Hope, Pope Leo XIV applies this to social realities. Addressing Catholic Charities, he praised their active role as "agents of hope" for migrants and the poor, concretizing God's providence through food, shelter, and legal aid—God's "style" of closeness. Migrants themselves witness hope via resilience and faith, bridging cultures. Similarly, his World Day of the Poor message rejects resignation to impoverishment, viewing the poor as "creative subjects" challenging Gospel innovation. Helping them is justice rooted in creation's shared goods, not just charity; policies must combat poverty actively, prioritizing labor, education, housing, and health over arms. Quoting St. Augustine, Leo emphasizes preventing hunger altogether. Thus, Advent's hope propels believers from recipients to builders of the common good.
Advent's theology translates into practical exhortation: conversion through repentance, prayer as vigilant expectation, and works of mercy as hope's fruit. The liturgy's prophetic calls demand self-examination—do we suffer with others? As Benedict urged, live the present receiving God's gifts, focused on a hopeful future. In a world of uncertainty, this counters emptiness, assuring Christ's listening ear.
For contemporary believers, active hope means engaging global crises—wars, migration, poverty—with compassion, as Francis implored. Leo XIV's teachings extend this to personal renewal: intuit inspirations humbly, dig for spiritual treasures, and serve the vulnerable as justice. The Eucharist sustains this, veiling yet revealing the hoped-for glory.
In summary, Catholic theology presents Advent as a vibrant season where hope actively shapes time, demanding conversion, bold action, and compassionate service over passive endurance. By heeding papal voices and liturgical wisdom, believers become pilgrims sowing God's Kingdom now, confident in its eternal fulfillment. This dynamic faith renews the Church and world, echoing the Te Deum: "In you, O Lord, is our hope, and we shall never hope in vain."