“These walls seem to be made of stone, but they are made of love,” Saint Josemaria used to say, speaking of Villa Tevere.[1] Walking through the corridors of this house feels like journeying through his very soul, until we finally find him at the feet of Our Lady of Peace. For those of us who follow Jesus Christ according to the spirit of Opus Dei, this alone could take us very far. Making a pilgrimage to the place where our founder’s body rests leads us to kneel before the Queen of Peace. On either side of the sanctuary, an angel holds an open book. In one, the words Gaudium cum Pace; in the other, Pax – In aeternum, as we pray every day in the Work.[2] The same words also adorn the back wall of the oratory of Pentecost, where Saint Josemaria prayed every morning, his eyes fixed on the Tabernacle he called “the heart of the Work.”
These petitions stand in contrast to the “troubling lack of peace in our times. Peace is absent in the headlines and among global powers, but also in small, everyday things; between relatives, neighbors, friends, and coworkers. It is lacking, too, in the human conscience, where fear, doubt, anxiety, and worry often reign.”[3]
Thanks be to God, there are many people, including non-Christians, who promote the human values of peace, coexistence, and harmony among peoples. Peace, as Saint John Paul II wrote, is also “the fruit of solidarity,”[4] and men and women of all faiths must work together towards that end. Yet the Christian conscience entails a deeper mission: it is one of “spreading the gospel of peace” (Eph 6:15) because “Christ Jesus is our peace” and it is He who has restored peace through the Cross (cf. Eph 2:14-16).[5]
When he thought of the people who would come to Opus Dei across the centuries, Saint Josemaria envisioned them “defending Christ’s peace (...). We will help society recognise the rights of the person, the family, and the Church. Our efforts will help lessen fratricidal hatred and mistrust among peoples. And my daughters and sons, fortes in fide (1 Pet 5:9), firm in the faith, will know how to anoint every wound with Christ’s Charity, which is the sweetest of balms.”[6] Thus, when Saint Josemaria speaks of being “sowers of peace,” he is not referring merely to humanitarian cordiality: he is inviting us to be witnesses to Christ. Peace is a gift, but it is also a task,[7] which requires bearing witness to the cross of Jesus in the world, even if preaching Christ crucified may be “a stumbling block” and “foolishness” to many (cf. 1 Cor 1:23).
Two logics
The sky over Jerusalem has grown dark. Liberation is at hand. Jesus has been nailed to the cross for nearly three hours, and only now is the meaning of the words He had spoken long before beginning to be revealed: “If anyone would be my disciple, let him take up his cross and follow me” (Mt 16:24). In this crucial moment, the very centre of history, in which the logic of God is about to overcome the logic of the world, Jesus faces one last temptation: “Let him come down now from the cross, and we will believe in him” (Mt 27:42). Show us your power and we will believe in you. Our logic is that of power: you will triumph if you dominate through power. It is the logic the devil constantly breathes, the same with which he had tried to seduce Jesus in the desert: “I will give you all this power and glory, for it has been handed over to me” (Lk 4:6). Jesus’ disciples were not immune to this mentality. On more than one occasion, they quarrelled over positions of power in the human kingdom they imagined (Lk 22:24-26).
Jesus, by contrast, presents us with a new way of seeing and thinking, a logic that comes to turn everything on its head: “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you. Bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you” (Lk 6:27-28). Perhaps, through force of habit, we read these passages with a drowsy conscience and are no longer astonished by the disconcerting grammar that runs through the whole of Jesus’ life and, above all, his passion. When Saint Peter attempts to defend Him with a sword, Jesus speaks of “more than twelve legions of angels” who could come to his aid if He were to call upon his Father (cf. Mt 26:53). When Pilate interrogates Him about his power, Jesus explains: “My kingdom is not of this world” (Jn 18:36): if it were, his “guards” would come and prevent him from being handed over.
When faced with these references to angelic powers, the imagination might wander: we might find ourselves thinking that, indeed, the celestial armies could well provide a measure of order and justice to our world. Even today, the path of power presents itself as an attractive shortcut to achieving good, promoting justice, and even peace, in the world. But Jesus has not come to bring the peace of the world, but his peace (Jn 14:27). And Jesus’ peace is the fruit of the cross, which is, “through love,” the mysterious “throne from which He reigns.”[8]
Benedict XVI once reflected on the power of Christ. He is the King of the Universe, but his dominion is not that of “the kings and great ones of this world; it is the divine power to give eternal life, to free from evil, to vanquish the power of death. It is the power of Love, which knows how to draw good from evil, to soften a hardened heart, to bring peace to the most violent conflict, to kindle hope in the deepest darkness. This Kingdom of grace never imposes itself and always respects our freedom. (…) Choosing Christ does not guarantee success by the world’s criteria, but it ensures the peace and joy that only He can give.”[9]
Jesus bears our sins upon his innocent shoulders. He fixes his merciful gaze on those who harm him. He implores the Father to grant pardon to his executioners. Although there is no greater crime than torturing and killing an innocent man, Jesus, even whilst affirming his innocence, responds to that ultimate injustice by interceding for the violent, the merciless, the scornful: “Father, forgive them” (Lk 23:34).
Through his self-giving and his mercy, Jesus breaks from within the logic of that endless chain of violence and vengeance that had held humanity captive since the envious fratricide of Cain. Hatred and violence will not have the last word. In the darkest moment of history, redemption is born, the fruit of love and sacrifice: from the forgiveness of the unforgivable, a new world begins to open, irreversibly. And in this new world, new peace is possible. As John Paul II said, with profound prophetic insight, “there is no peace without forgiveness.”[10]
Being recognised as children of God
The first fruit of Christ’s death on the cross will be the faith of a pagan, the centurion Longinus: “Truly, this was the Son of God” (Mt 27:54). Saint Peter’s Basilica pays him homage: his statue, carved by Bernini, stands near the tomb of the prince of the apostles; and in one of the pillars of the dome, according to tradition, a relic of his lance is preserved. The declaration of the Roman soldier echoes those by which Simon became Peter, the foundation stone of the Church: “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God” (Mt 16:16). Together, these two professions of faith resonate with Jesus’ promise: “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God” (Mt 5:9). If you wish to be recognised as a child of God, sow peace around you.
In one of his last pastoral letters, Bishop Javier Echevarría recalled a time ¨when Saint Josemaría was asked about the meaning of the greeting that the early Christians used among themselves, and that we also follow in the Work. And this was his answer: ‘Pax! We don’t proclaim it aloud, but we strive to bring peace with us, wherever we are. So when the waves begin to rear up, we pour over our passions and those of others a bit of understanding, a bit of fellowship, in a word, a bit of love. We bring peace with us and leave peace behind.’”[11]
The early Christians followed the example of the risen Christ. “Peace be with you,” Jesus says on three occasions to the disciples, according to John’s account (Jn 20:19-26). That is the peace we ask for every day at Mass, after the Our Father: “Deliver us, Lord, we pray, from every evil, graciously grant peace in our days.” Christ’s peace is the fruit of the cross and of prayer. And so, by contemplating the crucifix, we learn to look upon the world with mercy.
The witnesses of the crucifixion return home beating their breasts (cf. Lk 23:48). They stop accusing our Lord (“crucify Him!”) and begin to accuse themselves; the grace of the cross opens the path to humility and conversion.[12] The logic of God begins to fracture the kingdom of Satan. And the same thing continues to happen today: worldly logic and divine logic wage a battle in every heart, at every moment. Peace and war are decided with every heartbeat, with every breath.
[1] Saint Josemaria, In Dialogue with the Lord, no. 3.
[2] Cf. “The Preces of Opus Dei” on opusdei.org.
[3] F. Ocáriz, “Sowers of Peace and Joy,” 26-06-2025.
[4] Cf. Saint John Paul II, Sollicitudo Rei Socialis, nos. 39-40.
[5] Cf. Saint John Paul II, “An Enduring Commitment: Educating for Peace,” Message for the 37th World Day of Peace, 2004 (8-12-2003): “As Christians, we feel it is a characteristic duty of our religion to educate ourselves and others for peace. Indeed, for the Christian, proclaiming peace means announcing Christ who is ‘our peace’ (Ef 2:14) and proclaiming his Gospel which is ‘the Gospel of peace’ (Ef 6:15), calling all to the blessedness of being ‘peacemakers’ (cf. Mt 5:9).”
[6] Saint Josemaria, Letter 4, no. 26.
[7] Pope Benedict XVI, “The Human Person, the Heart of Peace,” Message for the 40th World Day of Peace, 2007 (8-12-2006).
[8] Saint Josemaria, The Way of the Cross, 2nd Station.
[9] Pope Benedict XVI, Angelus, 22-11-2009.
[10] Saint John Paul II, “An Enduring Commitment: Educating for Peace,” Message for the 37th World Day of Peace, 2004 (8-12-2003).
[11] J. Echevarría, Pastoral Letter, 1-03-2016.
[12] “If all of us, at every level, would stop accusing others and instead acknowledge our own faults, asking God for forgiveness, and if we would truly enter into the suffering of others and stand in solidarity with the weak and the oppressed, then the world would change” (Pope Leo XIV, Urbi et Orbi Message, 25-12-2025).