My dear brothers and sisters, my beloved friends in Christ, wherever you are watching from today, I greet you with peace. I come not as one above you but walking alongside you on this shared road of faith. I know many carry questions, some are tired or confused, and some love the Church deeply yet fear asking certain questions.

Have you ever felt that being a good Christian has become very heavy? That the many rules, customs, expectations, and traditions feel like a burden crushing your soul even before you begin? Many tell me, “Cardinal, I love Jesus, but I feel exhausted by religion.” My heart aches because Jesus never wanted faith to be a burden. He said, “Come to me all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”

Over centuries, the Church has traveled across cultures and nations, birthing beautiful traditions that helped people pray and live holy lives. But we must admit— not every tradition equals the gospel, nor is every custom essential for salvation. Some traditions that once guided now hide Christ instead of revealing Him.

Jesus himself confronted this when He said to religious leaders, “You have abandoned the commandment of God and hold to human tradition.” This was not to destroy religion but to save it from emptiness.

The Church is alive and must grow, reflect, and purify itself. When the Church re-examines traditions, it is not betraying Christ but seeking to return more faithfully to Him. The heart of Christianity is Jesus—His love, mercy, cross, and resurrection.

Letting go of unnecessary traditions is not losing faith but protecting it. When traditions make people feel unloved, excluded, or hopeless, the problem lies not with the people but with how faith is presented.

I remember a poor woman who stopped coming to Church because she felt unworthy—she did not know the “correct” prayers or gestures and thought God was angry. My heart broke, for God is never angry at simple love.

Guided by the Holy Spirit, the Church sometimes makes decisions that shock—not to erase the past but to heal the present; not to weaken belief but to clarify it.

The early Church faced similar struggles. St. Paul reminded believers, “For freedom Christ has set us free.” Salvation is not external practice alone but faith working through love. Discipline must serve love, not replace it.

We will look at traditions prayerfully, asking: Does this bring people closer to Christ? Does it help the poor, heal the broken, forgive sinners, and lift the weary? Or has it become an empty shell protected out of fear?

Some traditions arose in times of persecution or cultural misunderstanding. The Church is not a museum but a living body among real suffering, doubt, and hope. Without honest conversation, people walk away silently.

One common misconception is that holiness is measured by outward religious performance. Jesus warned against this, saying, “This people honors me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me.” Traditions are meant to support inner conversion, not replace it.

Faith cannot be reduced to external actions. A struggling, doubting person seeking God sincerely can be closer to the kingdom than one who follows every rule without love.

Another tradition needing reflection is the belief that God’s grace is limited by human structures. While the Church treasures sacraments, God is not imprisoned by them. The Holy Spirit moves freely.

St. Peter learned this when the Spirit descended on outsiders, challenging tradition-bound mindsets and opening mercy to all.

When traditions suggest God belongs only to a small group, they distort the gospel. Jesus ate with sinners, touched the unclean, and praised the faith of foreigners—not because He hated tradition, but because He loved people more.

Faith taught through fear—fear of punishment or hell—should never be the foundation. “Perfect love casts out fear,” says St. John. Fear-based faith is fragile, but God wants children, not slaves.

Rules without tenderness, customs without compassion, discipline without love suffocate the Church’s heart. Jesus healed on the Sabbath because love was always the law’s true purpose.

Silence is beautiful, but enforced silence in the face of injustice is not holiness. Psalms are full of cries and complaints; God listens to honest voices. Listening is as sacred as teaching.

Traditions that silence the suffering must be re-examined in gospel light.

We do not throw away heritage but seek to avoid narrowness. Jesus’ message crosses boundaries—He never demanded cultural conformity before love.

No one style of faith expression is superior. When one is declared so, division replaces communion. St. Paul reminded us, “There is neither Jew nor Greek, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.”

Suffering is not always punishment. Jesus rejected this when He said a man born blind did not sin. Suffering is often where God’s compassion shines. Traditions teaching self-blame deepen wounds instead of healing.

Spiritual perfectionism harms many. Doubt does not mean absence of faith; it often signals faith alive and seeking. Jesus met doubters with love, not rejection.

Hierarchy misunderstood as distance harms the Church. Leadership is service, exemplified by Jesus washing feet. True authority flows from humility.

Fear of change resists the Spirit’s movement. Pentecost and the Council of Jerusalem remind us that renewal often meets resistance but love prevails.

Change is not betrayal; discernment is not disobedience. The Spirit leads gently.

We must ask: Do we cling to traditions because they bring us closer to God or because letting go feels frightening?

There is a tradition of judgment before accompaniment, teaching that people must prove worth before love. Jesus began with humanity, mercy first, conversion born of love.

Belonging is not moral perfection but God’s presence in weakness. Shame hides wounds; dignity heals.

The Church exists for the world’s messiness, not apart from it. Shepherds must smell like their sheep.

Truth matters, but without love it becomes a weapon; love without truth becomes confusion.

What remains after questioning traditions is always Jesus Christ—alive, loving, calling us by name.

Tradition is not preserving ashes but passing on fire.

Faith grows best when people understand why they do what they do. Formation over rote instruction builds strong, personal faith.

Community is essential; Christianity is “we and God,” not “me and God.” Love is the most convincing tradition.

Humility allows us to learn, grow, and repent.

My dear brothers and sisters, faith is a journey of love and truth. Let us walk together with open hearts, ready to embrace the living Christ beyond any tradition that burdens rather than frees.

Amen.