Embraced by Bernini’s Colonnade, the first thought of gratitude is for Holy Father Leo XIV, White Dove of Peace, who welcomes us to his home today.

Thank you, Your Holiness, for this Christmas gift; and before the Crib from this Square, like children who promise not to be naughty at Christmas, we ask you for another gift: we await you in our Diocese to pray together at the tomb of St. Alphonsus M. de Liguori.

A word of gratitude I express for the President and all the Members of the Governorship with whom we worked in synergy for the realization of the crib gift, which the Diocese of Nocera Inferiore-Sarno offers to the Pope and the World in this Holy Year of Hope.

I greet His Eminence and the bishops present.

Gratitude for the minds, hearts, and hands of the firms and workers, professionals, laborers, artisans, and artists who carried out our project signed by Architect Angelo Santitoro.

And thanks to all the passionate communicators of hope who circulate the images and words through the streets of the world.

Thank you to our Diocesan Church, diverse in its vocations, to its first Bishop and Patron Saint Prisco, to the People, Institutions and Mayors, who enthusiastically responded to the Bishop’s call to live and let the territory experience the days of awe and wonder.

And a thankful thought for so many other hands and so many other hearts; and for all those who, already beyond the hedge, are looking out tonight from the gate of heaven to admire this stupendous spectacle.

The Crib, rooted in our hearts at the school of St. Alphonsus M. de Liguori, is a realistic icon of a people that in the richness of art, traditions, songs, its Saints, Blesseds and Servants, is heading toward that grotto where heaven has descended to earth and has taken root there; it is Admirable Signum, we will say with Pope Francis, with whom this dream began, where everyone rediscovers his dignity and his place to build together, in the toil and joy of the days, the Civilization of Hope.

A play of Neapolitan culture comes to mind: Natale in Casa Cupiello by Eduardo De Filippo:

Luca: Cuncè, mo me facile rompere ‘o presebbio. But really, will you leave me alone?
I can’t be distracted! Aggia fare ‘o Presebbio|
Concetta: Lucarie’, tu stisse facendo a’ Cupola e San Pietro?
Emiettece duie pasture ncoppa, come vanno vanno…

In the Cupiello household, as in every family, problems, clouds, and daily labors thicken; but Don Luca, as if nothing was wrong, continues to make the Nativity scene, giving us a wonderful lesson in wisdom and hope.

Yes, we, too, despite voices to the contrary, continue to set up the nativity scene not to distract or estrange ourselves from the storms of the world and life; not for mere aesthetic taste, but to offer everyone, especially pilgrims in the fog, a reliable sign of hope, pointing them to the path that leads to Bethlehem.

We still do so with joy, having learned the lesson from the Father of light (cf. Jas. 1:17) who, on a dark night, kindled on the earth the true light that enlightens every man (Jn. 1:9), a light that illuminates and does not dazzle.

Taken by the hands of the little ones and the shepherd of Hope, we enter the mystery on whose threshold we are welcomed by Mary, the Mother of Christmas:

“She opened the door and welcomed the procession of the Magi…. She opened the door from whom the Door was begotten, New Child, the God before the ages” (Roman the Melode, in Nativitatem I).

As we leave this unique Square and set out into the ways of the world, we too will be inhabited by awe and wonder for being not only artisans, but artists of peace in Bethlehem, the cradle of the Prince of Peace.

And now, while there are all the stars in the sky, let us approach in religious silence because “Here everything has a voice, everything has meaning” (St. Paul VI, Address in Nazareth, January 5, 1964).