Wednesday 3rd Week of Easter
USCCB Day of Reflection
Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception
Washington, D.C.
April 22, 2026
Intervention #1:
A Moment of Grace and Responsibility: Evangelizing the Unaffiliated in a Wounded Culture
I. A Word of Thanks
My Friends in Christ,
Thank you for being here today.
Thank you for the work you do every day
on behalf of the bishops of the United States and the Church we love.
Thank you for the quiet fidelity, professionalism, prayer, patience,
and the perseverance that you bring to your vocation.
Much of what you do is unseen by the world, but none of it is unseen by the Lord.
And none of it is taken for granted by me.
In a culture that often prizes visibility, immediacy, and recognition,
your work reminds us of something deeply evangelical:
that the Kingdom of God often advances quietly, like a seed planted in hidden soil, like yeast working through the dough, like grace at work in a human heart.
We gather today under the light of the USCCB Mission Directive,
which calls us to respond,
“even more deeply to the call of Christ
to proclaim the Gospel and form missionary disciples,”
and to prioritize the work of equipping the Church to evangelize those
who are religiously unaffiliated or disaffiliated,
with special focus on young adults and youth.
This is not simply a strategic priority. It is a spiritual summons.
It is Christ Himself calling us – again – to cast our nets into deep waters.
Perhaps, if we are honest,
it is also a moment that invites us to examine our own trust.
Because casting into the deep always requires faith.
It requires letting go of familiar methods, predictable outcomes,
and sometimes even cherished assumptions about how things “ought” to work.
II. A Moment of Grace, Not Despair
Earlier this year, in light of the 250th anniversary of our country,
I wrote a pastoral letter entitled
In Charity and Truth: Toward a Renewed Political Culture.
I described our current moment as a “moment of grace and responsibility.”
That phrase is not meant to be rhetorical. It is meant to be theological.
It is rooted in the conviction that God is at work – even here. Even now.
Even in the turbulence, the confusion, and the fragmentation of our age.
We live in a time of profound cultural division.
Many of the institutions that once provided stability –
family, community, civic life, even religious affiliation –
no longer hold the same place in people’s lives.
The result is not simply disagreement. It is disorientation.
Many young people feel unmoored, unseen, or unsure of what is true –
and sometimes unsure if truth itself even exists.
They inhabit a digital landscape that is always “on,”
yet often leaves them feeling alone.
A world of constant comparison, curated identity, and endless noise.
A world where affirmation is measured in clicks,
and yet genuine belonging remains elusive.
Many have never experienced a stable community of faith.
Many have never been invited – personally or intentionally –
into a relationship with Jesus Christ in a way that speaks to their hearts.
So, we must say this clearly: what we are witnessing is not simply a sociological shift. It is a spiritual moment.
But it is not a moment for despair. It is a moment for renewal.
The Gospel has not lost its power. Christ has not stopped calling.
The Holy Spirit has not ceased to inspire.
What has changed is the landscape in which we labor –
and that means our imagination, our methods, and our courage must deepen.
III. Reading the Signs of the Times
The Church has always been called to read the signs of the times –
not to mirror the culture, but to understand it, to engage it, and to evangelize within it.
And one of the clearest signs of our time is this: people are searching.
Even those who claim no religious affiliation often carry deep spiritual questions. Questions about meaning. About identity.
About suffering. About purpose. About love.
The tragedy is not that these questions no longer exist.
The tragedy is that too often, they are being answered elsewhere –
or not answered at all.
And so, our task is not to manufacture hunger. The hunger is already there.
Our task is to recognize it…to reverence it…and to respond to it with the Bread of Life.
IV. Evangelization Begins with Encounter
Pope Francis spoke often of a “culture of encounter.”
We know well that our broader culture has become increasingly polarized.
But perhaps even more insidious than polarization is
what we might call a culture of avoidance.
We avoid difficult conversations. We avoid those who think differently.
Sometimes, we even avoid those closest to us.
Yet the Gospel always moves us outward.
Jesus does not avoid. He encounters.
He encounters the Samaritan woman at the well.
He encounters Zacchaeus in the tree.
He encounters the disciples on the road to Emmaus.
He encounters the wounded, the searching, the doubting, the forgotten.
And in each encounter, something changes –
not only in the person He meets, but in the world around them.
To evangelize the disaffiliated, we must first see them.
Not as a category. Not as a statistic. But as persons – beloved by God.
To see them, we must listen. And to listen, we must love.
This is not a technique. It is a disposition of the heart.
Young people today are not looking for perfect institutions – thank God –
because we cannot offer that.
What they are looking for are credible witnesses.
People whose lives radiate something real. Something grounded.
Something joyful – even in the midst of suffering.
They are looking for authenticity. For humility. For integrity.
In other words, they are looking – whether they realize it or not – for Christ.
And so, we must ask ourselves: do our lives point to Him?
V. Evangelization Is Not a Program
Evangelization (as you know) is not a program.
It is not a marketing campaign. It is not a set of talking points.
Those things may serve the mission, but they are not the mission.
Evangelization is the fruit of encounter –
an encounter with Christ that becomes an encounter with others.
This is why personal conversion remains at the heart of everything we do.
We cannot give what we have not received.
We cannot proclaim a Gospel we have not allowed to transform us.
Evangelization always begins here – with us. With our own relationship with the Lord. With our own openness to grace. With our own willingness to be renewed.
VI. The Spiritual Crisis Beneath the Cultural Crisis
The crisis of disaffiliation is often framed in intellectual terms.
Certainly, there are intellectual questions – serious ones –
that deserve thoughtful engagement.
But at its deepest level, this is not primarily an intellectual crisis.
It is a spiritual crisis. It is a crisis of meaning, belonging, and hope.
Many young people do not reject God – they simply have not encountered Him.
They have not experienced the Church as a place
where their questions are welcomed, their wounds are tended,
and their gifts are needed.
If we are honest, there are times when the Church has not lived up to that calling. There have been moments – painful moments –
when the Church has failed to reflect the face of Christ.
Moments that have caused real hurt, real confusion, real distance.
We cannot ignore that reality. But neither can we allow it to define the future. Because the same Church that has known weakness
is also the Church that bears grace.
The same Church that has wounded is also the Church that heals –
because Christ is present within Her.
Our task is not to defend an abstract institution. Our task is to reveal a living Lord.
VII. The Role of Beauty, Truth, and Goodness
Evangelization must speak to the whole person – mind, heart, and imagination.
This is where the great tradition of the Church offers us
something profoundly relevant for our time: the unity of beauty, truth, and goodness.
Beauty opens the heart.
In a world that is often harsh, fragmented, and utilitarian,
beauty has a disarming power. It invites. It attracts. It awakens wonder.
Think of the beauty of the liturgy celebrated with reverence.
The beauty of sacred music. The beauty of a life lived in quiet holiness.
These things speak – sometimes more powerfully than words.
Truth illuminates the mind.
Young people are not afraid of the truth. They are hungry for it.
But they need it presented not as a weapon, but as a light.
They need a truth that is coherent, lived, and offered with humility and love.
Goodness draws the will.
When people encounter authentic charity –
when they see the Church serving the poor, accompanying the suffering,
standing with the vulnerable – they recognize something real.
When these three converge,
evangelization becomes not only possible but irresistible.
VIII. The Digital Areopagus
We must also acknowledge the reality
that much of today’s encounter happens in a digital space.
For many young people, the first “encounter” is not
in a parish hall or a campus ministry event – but on a screen.
This presents both a challenge and opportunity.
A challenge because the digital world can be superficial, fragmented,
and even hostile to faith.
But also, an opportunity
because it allows the Gospel to reach places it has never reached before.
The question is not whether we should engage the digital world – the question is how.
Do we bring into that space the same depth, the same authenticity,
the same reverence that we seek to embody elsewhere?
Or do we simply mirror the noise?
The digital world does not need more content. It needs more witness.
IX. Accompaniment and Patience
Evangelization in this moment will require patience.
We are not simply inviting people to return to something familiar.
In many cases, we are introducing them to something entirely new.
That means we must be willing to walk with them, to accompany,
to listen before we speak, and to build trust over time.
This is the path of the Lord Himself, so must it be our path.
X. A Word of Encouragement
Let me say this clearly: You are not simply staff. You are missionary disciples.
Your work is not peripheral. It is evangelical.
Through your efforts –
in teaching, in communications, in policy, in pastoral support, in liturgy, in service – you help create the conditions for encounter.
You help the Church breathe again in a culture that often feels suffocating.
You help make visible what is already true, namely that Christ is alive,
that He is present, and that He is still calling.
The Holy Spirit is already using you in ways you may never fully see.
As we begin this day of reflection, I invite you to receive this mission not as a burden, but as a grace – a grace entrusted to you
for the sake of the Church and for the sake of those who are waiting,
often unknowingly, for the light of Christ.
And perhaps, in ways known only to God, for the sake of your own salvation as well.
Because in giving ourselves to this mission,
we are not only serving others – we are being transformed.
We are being drawn more deeply into the very mystery we proclaim,
and that, my friends, is the greatest grace of all.
Intervention #2:
In Charity and Truth: Renewing Our Witness in a Polarized Culture
I. Renewal of Political Culture
As we continue our reflection today,
I would like to turn to another theme from my pastoral letter:
the renewal of our political and cultural life through charity, truth,
and what we might call civic friendship.
At first glance, this may seem like a separate conversation
from evangelizing the religiously unaffiliated.
It may even feel like a different lane altogether –
more about public life than pastoral outreach, more about society than the soul.
But in reality, the connection is immediate and profound.
If we are serious about reaching those who have drifted from the Church –
or those who have never known Her in a meaningful way –
then we must also be serious about the world they inhabit.
We must understand not only what they believe, but the atmosphere
in which those beliefs are formed, reinforced, or quietly abandoned.
The truth is we do not evangelize in a vacuum. We evangelize within a culture.
And that culture shapes, often in unseen ways,
how the Gospel is heard – or whether it is heard at all.
II. The Air We Breathe
In the pastoral letter, I described our cultural atmosphere as “the air we breathe.”
It is a simple image, but I believe it is an important one.
Most of the time, we are not consciously aware of the air around us.
Yet it sustains us – or, in some cases, it weakens us.
If the air is clean, we thrive.
If it is polluted, we may not immediately notice, but over time it takes its toll.
In many ways, our cultural air today is burdened.
It is marked by a persistent tension – an undercurrent of anger, suspicion, and fatigue. Conversations that once might have been marked by curiosity
are now often marked by defensiveness.
Differences that once invited dialogue now trigger division.
Young people, perhaps more than anyone, are breathing this air deeply.
They are growing up in a world where disagreement quickly becomes dismissal, where identity is often reduced to ideology,
and where belonging is too often contingent upon conformity. Many of them are tired.
Not always in a way they can articulate, but in a way that is real. Tired of the noise. Tired of the pressure to choose sides.
Tired of the feeling that every conversation is somehow
a contest to be won rather than a relationship to be nurtured.
Into this atmosphere, the Church is called to speak.
But more importantly, the Church is called to be something different.
If our evangelization is to bear fruit,
then it cannot simply add another voice to the noise.
It must offer another way of being. Another way of relating.
Another way of seeing the human person.
It must feel, in a very real sense, like breathing different air.
Air that is marked not by outrage, but peace,
not by fragmentation, but by a genuine desire for unity,
not by the weaponization of truth, but by truth
spoken with reverence, humility, and love.
This is not merely a matter of tone. It is a matter of credibility.
Because if the Church sounds like every other voice, why would anyone listen?
III. The Witness of Communion
This brings us to something
that has taken on renewed importance in the life of the Church in recent years:
the call to walk together, to listen, to discern –
in a word, to live more deeply what we mean when we speak of communion.
We often associate this with the language of synodality.
But rather than thinking of it as a concept or a process,
I would invite us to see it as a way of life within the Church.
At its heart, it is about the conviction that the Holy Spirit is at work
not only in isolated individuals, but in the Body of Christ as a whole.
It is about trusting that, when we truly listen – to one another and to the Lord – something new becomes possible.
This has direct implications for evangelization.
Because people today are not only listening to what the Church says.
They are watching how the Church lives.
They are watching how we speak to one another, how we handle disagreement,
how we respond to tension,
and how we carry ourselves when we are misunderstood or even criticized.
In other words, they are watching
whether the communion we proclaim is something we actually embody.
When the internal life of the Church reflects patience, humility,
and a genuine openness to the other – something powerful happens.
Our witness becomes credible in a way that no strategy alone could ever accomplish.
But when our internal culture mirrors the same division that marks the wider world, the Gospel becomes harder to hear –
not because it lacks truth, but because it lacks a visible home.
So the renewal of our evangelizing mission must include
a renewal of our way of being together.
Not perfectly – because we are human – but authentically.
IV. The Quiet Power of Virtue
In the pastoral letter, I reflected
on the importance of the virtues as the foundation for a renewed public life.
I would suggest that the same is true – perhaps even more so –
for a renewed evangelization.
Evangelization is not sustained by ideas alone.
It is carried forward by people whose lives have been shaped –
patiently and often quietly, by grace –
and that shaping takes place through the formation of virtue.
First there is the virtue of prudence – a kind of spiritual wisdom
that allows us to see reality clearly and respond to it rightly.
Prudence is not caution or hesitation.
It is the ability to discern what love requires in a particular moment.
It helps us recognize where a person truly is, beneath appearances or assumptions. It guides us to know when to speak, when to remain silent,
and how to offer the truth in a way that can be received.
In a culture that often rewards immediacy and reaction,
prudence teaches us to move with intention and care.
There is also justice, which grounds us
in a deep respect for the dignity of every human person.
This becomes especially important
in our encounter with those who feel distant from the Church.
Justice reminds us that they are not problems to be solved
or audiences to be persuaded – but people to be reverenced.
It calls us to listen seriously, to take their questions to heart,
and to ensure that our engagement is marked
by fairness, honesty, and genuine concern for their good.
Fortitude is also essential at this moment.
By this I mean not only courage in the face of opposition,
but a grounded, realistic strength – a capacity to remain steady
in a complex and sometimes hostile cultural environment.
Evangelization today requires more than abstract courage;
it requires resilience, clarity, and certain spiritual toughness.
The ability to navigate difficult conversations, to endure misunderstanding,
and to remain faithful without becoming hardened or defensive.
This is the kind of fortitude that allows us to stay present,
even when it would be easier to withdraw.
Finally, there is temperance,
a virtue that is perhaps more needed than ever in our age.
Temperance brings an interior balance to our lives.
It moderates not only our desires, but also our reactions.
It shapes the way we speak, especially in digital spaces,
where the temptation to respond quickly and sharply is ever-present.
Temperance allows our witness to remain calm, measured, and peaceful –
reflecting not the volatility of the culture, but the steadiness of Christ.
Taken together,
these virtues form something like the inner architecture of credible witness.
They do not draw attention to themselves. In fact, they often go unnoticed.
But their presence – or their absence – profoundly shapes how the Gospel is received.
In the end, people are not only listening to our words,
but they are also encountering the kind of person those words have made us to be. When that encounter reflects wisdom, reverence, courage, and peace,
something begins to open – not because we have persuaded them –
but because, through grace, they have glimpsed something true.
V. A Different Kind of Presence
When we speak about renewing our political culture,
it is tempting to think primarily in terms of systems, structures, or outcomes.
And certainly, those matter.
But before any of that, there is the question of presence.
What kind of presence does the Church have in the public square?
Is it a presence marked by anxiety or by hope?
By defensiveness or by confidence in the truth? By distance or by engagement?
The same questions apply to evangelization more broadly.
What kind of presence do we have in the lives of those who are unaffiliated?
Do they experience the Church as distant and abstract or as proximate and personal? Do they encounter us as people who already have all the answers
or as people who are willing to walk with them as they search?
The Mission Directive rightly calls us
to a renewed focus on those who are unaffiliated.
But that focus cannot be reduced to outreach alone.
It must also include a kind of interior conversion –
a willingness to examine how we are perceived, and why.
Not for the sake of image, but for the sake of mission.
If the Gospel is to be heard, it must be carried by voices that are trusted,
and trust is built slowly, often quietly, through consistent witness.
VI. Hope in a Time of Weariness
We find ourselves ministering in a time when many people feel
politically homeless, spiritually adrift, and culturally exhausted.
There is a weariness that runs deep.
Yet, it is precisely in moments like this that the Lord so often chooses to act.
Again and again throughout salvation history,
God enters not at the moment of strength, but at the moment of need.
Not when everything is clear, but when much feels uncertain.
This should give us great confidence.
The effectiveness of our mission does not depend
solely on our own strength or ingenuity.
It depends ultimately on the grace of God and that grace is not lacking.
It is present in ways seen and unseen.
It is present in the quiet openness of a young person asking a question
they have never asked before.
It is present in the return of someone who has long felt distant
and it is present in the daily fidelity of those
who continue to serve, pray, and to witness.
VII. A Unified Mission
The renewal of our political culture
and the renewal of our evangelizing mission are not separate tasks.
They are expressions of the same deeper reality.
At the center of both is the human person –
created in the image of God, wounded by sin, and redeemed by Christ.
At the center of both is the conviction that truth matters, that love matters,
and that the way we live those realities have consequences far beyond ourselves.
And at the center of both is Jesus Christ Himself.
He alone reveals the full dignity of the human person,
He alone speaks a word that can cut through confusion without wounding,
He alone offers a peace that the world cannot give.
So, our task – your task – is to help the Church make Him known.
Not only in what we say, but in how we live.
Not only in moments of clarity, but in moments of tension,
not only when it is easy, but when it is difficult.
VIII. A Word of Encouragement
The work entrusted to you unfolds in a challenging time – there is no denying that. But it is also a privileged time because you have been called to serve
at a moment when the hunger for what the Church offers –
whether it is recognized or not – is real.
Your work helps create space for a different kind of conversation,
a different kind of encounter, a different kind of witness.
Through your efforts, the Church is able to speak – not as one voice among many,
but as a voice that carries within it the echo of something eternal.
Remain rooted in Christ and trust that the Lord,
who has begun this good work, will bring it to completion.
Closing Remarks for the Day of Reflection
My friends,
As we bring this day of reflection to a close,
I want to express my deep gratitude to each of you.
Thank you for your openness of heart, for your thoughtful engagement,
and for the spirit of communion you brought to the conversations.
Days like this remind us that
the work of the Conference is not simply administrative or procedural.
It is profoundly ecclesial.
It is a participation in the Church’s mission to proclaim Christ
and to draw people into the joy of His Gospel.
Throughout our time together, we reflected on the USCCB Mission Directive –
a call to respond even more deeply to Christ’s invitation to form missionary disciples, especially among those who are unaffiliated or disaffiliated from the Church.
We also considered the themes of In Charity and Truth,
and how the renewal of our political and cultural life is inseparable
from the renewal of our evangelizing mission.
What I hope you carry with you today is this: your work matters.
It matters not only because it supports the bishops,
but because it supports the Church’s witness in a moment
when so many are searching for meaning, belonging, and hope.
You help create the conditions for encounter.
You help the Church breathe the fresh air of the Holy Spirit
in a culture that often feels stifled by division and fear.
You help ensure that the Gospel is proclaimed with clarity, with charity,
and with the confidence that Christ is still at work in His Church.
I also hope you leave encouraged.
The challenges we face are real, but so is the grace that has been entrusted to us. The Holy Spirit is not finished with the Church in the United States.
In fact, I believe the Spirit is preparing us for a new chapter of missionary creativity – one that will require our best thinking, our deepest prayer, & our most generous love.
As you return to your daily responsibilities, I ask you to carry three things with you. First, carry hope. Not optimism, which depends on circumstances,
but Christian hope, which depends on Christ.
Second, carry charity.
Let your work be shaped by the love that sees the dignity of every person – colleagues, bishops, and those we serve.
And third, carry truth.
Speak it with courage, defend it with humility,
and let it shine through your lives more than through your words.
Thank you for the privilege of spending this day with you.
Thank you for your fidelity, your professionalism, and your love for the Church.
And thank you for the witness you offer – often quietly, often behind the scenes –
to the beauty of the Gospel.
May the Lord bless you, strengthen you, and send you forth renewed in His peace.
SMALL GROUP QUESTIONS – INTERVENTION #1
Where do you see signs of hope in the Church’s efforts to reach the unaffiliated or disaffiliated?
What obstacles – cultural, spiritual, or institutional – most hinder our ability to evangelize effectively?
How does the idea of a “culture of encounter” challenge or inspire your own work at the Conference?
What is one concrete way the USCCB staff could better support evangelization among young adults and youth?
SMALL GROUP QUESTIONS – INTERVENTION #2
How can the USCCB staff model synodality – listening discernment, and walking together – in its daily work?
Which virtue (prudence, justice, fortitude, temperance) do you think is most needed in our ecclesial and cultural moment, and why?
What practical steps could help the Conference foster a more credible, hope-filled public witness?