Pope Leo XIV’s first apostolic exhortation, Dilexit te (“I have loved you”), follows on from Pope Francis’ spiritual legacy: a Church that recognizes itself as poor, walks with the poor, and allows itself to be evangelized by them. The title, Dilexi te (“I have loved you”), is taken from the Book of Revelation (Rev 3:9) and aims to express Christ’s words addressed to every poor person: “You have but little power… and yet I have loved you”.
The document reflects on the mystery of Christ’s love, already explored in Dilexit Nos, which confirms the dignity of every human being, especially when they are “weak, despised or suffering”. In its 121 points, it reminds us that “experiencing poverty” goes far beyond philanthropy. Service to the poor is service to Christ himself. From this perspective, we come to see that this exhortation does not place us in the horizon of beneficence, but in that of revelation. It is not an exhortation on poverty but on the theological value of encountering the poor: a profound meditation on the mystery of divine love manifested in the poor and in service to them.
“I have loved you” (cf. Rev 3:9) is a declaration of love, in this case from the Lord to the early Christian community in difficulty. Let us pause, as we read this exhortation, and listen carefully to this God who can only love. And while we know that God loves in infinite ways, as we explore this love, the Pope guides us with tremendous clarity and beauty along a path full of faces and names where we can find those in whom God loves us. In the poor, God still has something to say to us and to make us experience: he loves us!
Love for the poor as revelation
In the text we find an important proposal: Every gesture of compassion towards the poor becomes, says the Pope, a revelation of God, an encounter with Christ. Christ becomes visible in the face of those who suffer, and that encounter transforms us. Leo XIV exhorts us to recognise the various faces of the poor — material, moral, spiritual, cultural and social — reminding us that Christian faith cannot be separated from love for the poor, in whom God’s presence and will are manifested and reflected upon. They are not only recipients of aid, but “creative subjects who challenge us to find new ways of living the Gospel today,” bearers of a divine presence that touches us, welcomes us, questions us and transforms us.
“The poor is Christ,” affirms Leo XIV. For believers, love for the poor is at the heart of the Gospel and is not optional, but a criterion of true worship of God (cf. Mt 25:40). The Church is called not to “do for the poor,” but to “walk with them,” recognizing that God acts silently in their fragility and speaks, even loudly, through their lives. Because poverty is not contemplated from a distance, but in poor men and women.
In a world that, out of indifference, idolises efficiency and wealth, Dilexit te invites to rediscover the inner freedom of those who love without measure. As the Gospels describe Jesus to us. In Christ, poor, we find the model of a Church that does not accumulate but gives; that does not dominate but serves; that does not exclude but embraces. “How can we pass through the narrow gate of the Kingdom laden with so many things?” How can we hope for heaven while accumulating on earth? These are questions that arise when reading Dilexit te.
Love, justice and integral human development
Christian love goes far beyond simple welfarism. “Poverty,” Leo XIV reminds us, “is not a political problem, but a problem of brotherhood.” Perhaps true wealth consists precisely in emptying ourselves, to make room for the love that fills everything. Loving as Christ demands requires a commitment of faith, promoting integral human development: that each person may grow with education, health, freedom, participation and dignity, without thinking that all this “is for others.” Our love for the Lord is intertwined with love for the poor; there is no true prayer that does not translate into commitment to them.
And in this regard, the exhortation helps us understand a theological aspect of our actions towards the poor. Works of mercy are the visible face of a living faith, the sign of a community that has been transformed by the Gospel. In every gesture of tenderness, in every effort to welcome the excluded, God himself is present: it is an act of liturgy, where love becomes encounter and praise of God. However, the Pope warns against the risk of reducing social ministry to empty programmes or structures filled only with welfare: a Church that does not touch real poverty runs the risk of dissolving, even if it speaks about social issues or criticises those in power. True evangelisation springs from contact with the suffering flesh of Christ in the poor: there where love becomes concrete and the Gospel becomes life.
A Church with the poor and evangelised by them
The exhortation reinforces the concept of the “preferential option for the poor,” affirming that it is not a task for a few, but the mission of the Church as a whole. Dilexit te sends us a strong and luminous call: it is time to change course. Being in total solidarity with the humble is not an optional task, but an inalienable duty of fidelity to the Gospel. The poor are not a problem to be solved, but a gift to be welcomed; they are “teachers of the Gospel.” As Leo XIV says, recognising that the poor are not only poor but also a theological place: “Let us be evangelised by the poor.” In them dwells the very heart of the Church; through them, God speaks to us and reveals his love. To affirm this means to emphasise that knowledge of God is not primarily a matter of doctrine, no matter how correctly expressed, but rather an encounter, a welcome and a journey made together, where our relationship with others and our relationship with God are intimately and inextricably intertwined.
The parable of the Good Samaritan resonates every day as a personal invitation: “Go and do likewise” (Lk 10:37). In the face of our brother’s suffering, indifference and the pursuit of prestige are traps of spiritual worldliness that distort the Gospel. When the pastoral ministry of the Church or of an ecclesial community, such as WUCWO, is oriented preferentially towards the elites, or when we think that “others” should take care of the poor, we lose the authenticity of following Christ. A Church without the poor is an incomplete Church. Only those who allow themselves to be touched by their pain can proclaim with truth and tenderness that God loves, that God saves, and that in the little ones He Himself is present.
The female faces of poverty
The Pope directs a particularly attentive and tender gaze towards women, whom he calls “doubly poor”: those who suffer exclusion, violence or marginalisation. Women are often the first to suffer the consequences of poverty and discrimination, but at the same time they are “bearers of a unique dignity” and “agents of change” in the family, in society and in the Church. In them is reflected the suffering face of Christ, but the wisdom of God also shines forth. In their daily heroism — in caring for their children, in defending life, in their silent hope — shines the transforming power of God’s love.
For the women of WUCWO, this message has a profound resonance. It invites us to recognise and accompany the female faces of poverty with concrete gestures, with closeness, with true sisterhood. But our commitment cannot remain limited to immediate aid. It also impels us to discover our deepest vocation: to manifest God’s love through tenderness and listening, as active protagonists of social and pastoral transformation.
In a Church that wants to be a mother, the witness of women is essential and indispensable. Like Mary at the foot of the cross, women discover the value of suffering offered and therefore redeemed, and the quiet strength of service. The Spirit entrusts to women a unique sensitivity, intelligence, and compassion, to continue building a Church that is truly “with the poor and for the poor”.
Conclusion: a Church that loves without measure
The Church that the world needs today is not one that seeks to preserve its power or prestige, but one that allows itself to be transformed by love. A Church that knows no enemies, but only brothers and sisters to love and serve. Dilexit te concludes by reminding us that every baptised person has engraved in their heart the responsibility to ” to raise a voice that awakens, denounces, and stands up” for the weakest. Christian love is not measured by words, but by concrete and risky actions (cf. James 2:14-17). It is a prophetic love, without limits, which makes the invisible visible and believes in the impossible.
The message of Dilexit te, which I invite you to read, is luminous and demanding: love for the poor is love for God. It is not an addition, but the heart of the Gospel. God chooses the poor, identifies with them, becomes one with them, shares their fragility and their hope. As women of faith, you are called to embody that love in your families, communities and places where life cries out… or barely whispers.
The true greatness of the Church lies in its capacity to love and serve. Only a Church that allows itself to be touched and transformed by the pain of the poor can make it credible that God continues to say to the world again and again: “Dilexit te — I have loved you.”
