If someone is gay and he searches for the Lord and has good will

Hear the gentle yet thunderous words of Pope Francis: “If someone is gay and he searches for the Lord and has good will, who am I to judge? We shouldn't marginalise people for this. They must be integrated into society.” This is not the language of condemnation but of mercy, not the voice of exclusion but of welcome. It is a call to remember the dignity of every human being, no matter their path, no matter their struggle. In these words, Francis lifted the veil of harsh judgment and reminded the faithful that above doctrine, above division, there must first be compassion.

The origin of this quote lies in the early days of Francis’s papacy, when he was asked about gay individuals within the priesthood. At a time when the Church was often accused of coldness and rigidity, his response surprised the world. His answer did not rewrite centuries of teaching, but it did reveal a shift in spirit—a turn toward humility. By asking, “Who am I to judge?” Francis placed himself not as ruler over souls but as a fellow traveler, one who recognized that the heart’s secret dialogue with God is beyond human authority. His words were an echo of Christ’s own, who said, “Judge not, that ye be not judged.”

The ancients too understood this truth. Consider the story of Jesus and the woman accused of adultery, dragged before him by those eager to stone her. He bent down and wrote upon the ground, and when pressed, he said: “Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.” One by one, the accusers slipped away, for they recognized their own faults. In this story we see the same spirit as Francis’s words: that it is not our place to destroy one another with judgment, but to recognize our shared weakness and our shared humanity.

History offers another example in the life of St. Francis of Assisi, the Pope’s namesake. Francis did not seek honor or power, but embraced lepers, beggars, and outcasts. He saw Christ in the faces that society despised. His way was not condemnation but integration, not rejection but brotherhood. And in this spirit, Pope Francis calls upon the Church and the world to embrace those who have been pushed to the margins, to see them not as strangers but as brothers and sisters.

The meaning of this quote, then, is profound: to marginalize is to wound society, but to integrate is to heal it. When we reject others because of who they are, we fracture the body of humanity. When we welcome them with respect and goodwill, we strengthen the bonds of community. Francis is not calling for permissiveness without responsibility, but for love before judgment, for encounter before exclusion. A society built on scorn will crumble; a society built on compassion will endure.

What lesson shall we, who hear these words, take to heart? First, that every person is more than their label, more than their struggle, more than what others whisper about them. Second, that the measure of our faith is not in how fiercely we condemn but in how deeply we love. Third, that to build a just world, we must stand against marginalization in all its forms—whether of the poor, the stranger, or those whose identities differ from our own.

Therefore, children of the future, inscribe this upon your hearts: judge less, love more. If someone seeks truth, if they live with goodwill, then they are your brother, your sister, your kin. Do not push them to the margins, for the margins are where Christ himself once walked. Instead, draw them into the circle of society, where they may stand with dignity. For in lifting one another up, we all rise together, and in showing mercy, we reflect the face of God more clearly than in any judgment we might pass.