This Easter Sunday, the world’s attention turns to the Vatican, where Pope Francis has made a powerful return to public life following a grave illness.

Just a few weeks ago, the Pope was fighting for his life. Hospitalized with severe pneumonia and early-stage kidney failure, Francis spent over a month at Rome’s Gemelli Hospital before being discharged in late March. He has since been recovering at his Vatican residence under close medical supervision, taking only limited oxygen support and slowly regaining his strength.

Yet despite the gravity of his illness, Pope Francis resumed his Easter duties this week with unwavering determination. On Holy Thursday, he revived his annual tradition of visiting Rome’s Regina Coeli prison, meeting with inmates and delivering blessings. Although he was physically unable to perform the foot-washing ritual this year, his presence was a powerful symbol of mercy and humility. “Even in weakness,” he said, “we can still be strong in love.”

The Pope’s health crisis has only deepened his moral clarity — especially on the question of peace.

Throughout the war in Gaza, Francis has stood out as one of the few world leaders to speak not only with urgency, but with genuine humanity. From the earliest days of the bombing, he has called for a ceasefire, for the release of hostages, and for unimpeded humanitarian aid. He condemned the deaths of civilians in Gaza, including two Christian women killed by Israeli snipers, as acts of “terrorism.” And in a gesture that has become emblematic of his papacy, he has placed personal care above protocol: since October, he has been calling the Holy Family Church in Gaza every night to pray with and comfort those sheltering inside.

When bombs fell near the church’s courtyard, the Pope stayed on the line for over an hour — praying with the sisters, the wounded, and the terrified. “You are not alone,” he told them. And he has kept that promise. Night after night.

In December, the Vatican unveiled a Nativity scene unlike any other. The infant Jesus, wrapped in a keffiyeh, the traditional Palestinian scarf, lay in a Bethlehem-crafted manger as a quiet but unmistakable expression of solidarity with a people under siege. It was a reminder that in the Christian story, refuge and occupation, exile and hope, have always coexisted.

So this Easter, whether you celebrate it as a moment of faith, a family gathering, or a quiet morning of reflection, let us carry with us the same message that echoed from St. Peter’s Square today: Peace is not passive. It must be chosen, again and again. Even, and especially, when it feels furthest away.

From all of us at NDLB, we wish you a joyful Easter and a season of healing, wherever you are.

In solidarity,