This Jubilee year Pope Francis calls us to understand pilgrimage as something far more profound than travel. It’s a moment to renew our understanding of what it means to live the call of the Gospel—both as individuals and as a global community—at a time when the world is suffering the impacts of war, the ongoing effects of COVID-19 pandemic, and the climate crisis. The invitation to be “Pilgrims of Hope,” is a movement of the heart, drawing us into encounters with mercy and reconciliation that reshape us in ways we may not anticipate. This pilgrimage is primarily one of the spirit where we are urged to recognise God’s presence in the world, a presence that is not distant or abstract but alive in the struggles and challenges we face each day.
As Pilgrims of Hope, we are challenged to bring both restoration to our own hearts and compassion to the world; we are compelled to deepen our relationship with the Divine and to engage in the mission of renewal upheld by the Church. This path is not to be taken in isolation, it is a shared walk, marked by solidarity with those who suffer, face injustice, or have their dignity denied. In this pilgrimage, we come to understand that the suffering of one ripples out to touch us all, and our response must be grounded in compassion and justice.
For those of us who share the OLA mission—whether as Sisters or lay collaborators—it offers an opportune moment to reflect on the deeper threads of our shared calling.
The roots of the Jubilee lie in the ancient Biblical practice found in the Book of Leviticus, where every fiftieth year was declared holy—a time to return to one’s family, forgive debts, and restore the land to rest. This rhythm of renewal was not only an economic and social recalibration but a profound act of trust in God’s providence and an expression of hope for a new beginning.
How might we embrace that same spirit of release and restoration today? What debts—spiritual or emotional—might we forgive, both in others and in ourselves? What burdens do we need to set down? What parts of our lives might need rest, so that something new can grow?
For those who can no longer travel far or serve in the ways they once did, it is easy to feel as though their contribution to the Church has diminished. But the Jubilee reminds us that rest itself is holy. In the quiet of our days, we hold the memory of all that has been—the people we have loved, the work we have done, the prayers we have offered. Those memories are not a weight; they are a reservoir from which flows the wisdom that sustains others. Our lives, even in stillness, reflect a quiet but profound faithfulness and grace.
Perhaps the Jubilee also calls us to listen differently. Years of active ministry often leave little space for deep listening—to God, to creation, to the deeper stirrings of our own hearts. In this stage of life, we have the gift of time to do just that, opening up the possibility of a new attentiveness. Through the years, each of us finds our own way of contributing, shaped by our experiences, offering our unique gifts. The young voices carry the message, vibrant and clear. But it is the older tones, rich with experience, that give depth and resonance to the whole. Together, these voices create harmony, each enriching the other. To listen is to offer our wisdom and presence to the life of the Church, enriching its journey in ways both profound and subtle.
In his Jubilee message, Pope Francis has called for a year of hope. Hope is not always loud. It does not always march boldly forward. Sometimes, it is the quiet persistence of a seed breaking through the soil. For those who have lived through decades of change, of loss, of upheaval, hope may feel fragile. But fragile things are often the most resilient. A candle’s flame is easily snuffed out, yet it can light countless other flames. Our hope, however small it feels, is part of the Church’s hope. It is a light that spreads.
This Jubilee is also a communal celebration. We are part of something much larger than ourselves, a universal Church spanning continents and centuries. For those who feel isolated or forgotten, this is a reminder that we are never alone. Every prayer we whisper, every intention we hold, joins with the prayers of millions, forming a united body of grace. Whether we are in active ministry or quietly retired, we belong to a communion that sustains and uplifts us.
This holy year asks us to revisit the stories we tell about our lives, to see our past through fresh eyes. Every Jubilee calls us to remember. But memory is not nostalgia. To remember is to re-member: to bring together the fragments, to see anew how God has been present in every chapter. What are the stories we tell ourselves about our lives? Are they stories of scarcity, of not having done enough, of what could have been? Or are they stories of abundance, of God’s grace at work in ways we could not have imagined? The Jubilee Year is an opportunity to tell our stories through the filter of God’s infinite love.
There is also a call to gratitude—to meet the present with open arms and an open heart. Even in seasons of loss or diminishment, gratitude points us to the beauty still unfolding—the kindness of a friend or a stranger, the beauty of a sunrise, the gentle rhythm of prayer that sustains our days. Gratitude turns our gaze outward, reminding us that God’s Kingdom is not a distant promise but is unfolding here and now, even, and perhaps especially, in the small and quiet moments.
Looking ahead to the Jubilee, we hold its themes close: release, renewal, restoration. These are not abstract ideas but the rhythms of God’s grace moving through our lives. Wherever we find ourselves—in action or in rest—we are invited to answer God’s call into something new. The Jubilee is not just for the young, the active, or the visible. It is for all of us, wherever we find ourselves. It is a reminder that our worth is not in what we do but in who we are: beloved by God.
Are we ready to step into grace? Are we ready to welcome the gifts and be surprised by the God who is always making all things new?
For further reflection, the full calendar of events and the letter from Pope Francis can be found in the official Jubilee Year resources, offering guidance on how we might embrace this moment of grace in our own contexts.
