Istanbul – The third day of the Apostolic Journey to Turkey and Lebanon began with a visit to the Sultan Ahmed Mosque. The Holy See Press Office announced that “the Pope experienced the visit to the Mosque in silence, in a spirit of recollection and attentive listening, with deep respect for the place and for the faith of those who gather there in prayer.” Speaking to journalists, the mosque’s muezzin, Asgin Tunca, explained that Leo XIV visited the Mosque but did not pray there. “I told him this was the house of Allah, that if he wished he could pray, and he said ‘No, I will look around’ and continued the visit,” he told reporters. It is a striking example of how clearly Leo XIV understands what respect really means: as Cardinal Giacomo Biffi used to recall, it does not consist in saying that all religions are the same, but in dialoguing with everyone, recognizing and appreciating the good that each one does, while remaining fully aware of what our own faith is. After all, if we were to ask a Muslim to pray in a church, it is evident that he would refuse, and this would be entirely understandable. In the same way, there is nothing questionable in this decision of the Pope; on the contrary, it highlights his position and coherence all the more clearly.
At the end of the visit to the mosque, the Holy Father travelled by car to the Syriac Orthodox Church of Mor Ephremfor a private meeting with the Heads of the Churches and Christian Communities. On his arrival he was welcomed by the Syriac Orthodox Patriarch and by the Metropolitan of the Syriac Orthodox Church of Antioch for the dioceses of Istanbul, Ankara and Izmir. The Patriarch and the Pope entered the Church and joined the Christian Leaders for a group photo. The choir then intoned a hymn invoking the Holy Spirit, and the Leaders took their seats at the round table. The meeting continued behind closed doors, with brief addresses from each Leader, followed by a speech of the Pontiff. Before leaving the Church, the Patriarchal Vicar of the Syriac Orthodox Church of Antioch led the recitation of the Our Father.
Signing of the Joint Declaration
In the afternoon, the center of gravity of Leo XIV’s pilgrimage shifted to the Golden Horn, in the Fanar (Phanar) district, where the Patriarchal Palace of the Church of Constantinople stands. It was here that the Pope and the Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew I chose to place one of the most delicate and theologically dense moments of the journey: the signing of a Joint Declaration linking together the memory of Nicaea, the path toward full communion between Catholics and Orthodox, the search for a common date for Easter, and the radical rejection of any religious use of violence. At 3:50 p.m., the two delegations were officially presented in the Patriarchal Palace. Shortly thereafter, Leo XIV and Bartholomew signed the Declaration, introduced by a verse from Psalm 106 – “Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good, for his mercy endures forever” – which immediately sets the tone of the text: not a document of diplomatic balancing, but an act of thanksgiving, on the eve of the feast of Saint Andrew, the first-called among the apostles, brother of Peter and patron of the Ecumenical Patriarchate. After the signing and the exchange of gifts, the two Church leaders withdrew to the Patriarch’s study for a brief private meeting. Only afterwards did the Pope leave the Phanar by car to reach the Volkswagen Arena, where the Mass with the Catholic community awaited him.
Read in the context of this journey that unites Turkey and Lebanon, the Declaration clearly sets out its frame of reference from the very first lines: Leo XIV and Bartholomew describe themselves as the legitimate continuers of their “venerable predecessors” and declare that they are determined to continue “with firm determination” along the path of dialogue “in love and in truth” toward the “restoration of full communion between our sister Churches.” The expression is not neutral: to speak of sister Churches means to recognize a real, though wounded, communion, which has its roots in the first millennium, when Rome and Constantinople shared the same faith, the same sacraments, and the same fundamental structure of ecclesial life.
Precisely for this reason, the two leaders insist that the unity of Christians cannot be understood as the result of human strategies, legal agreements or merely cosmetic compromises. It is above all a gift from on high, to be implored in prayer. For this reason the appeal that runs through the text is not addressed only to the hierarchies, but to the whole People of God: bishops, priests, monks, consecrated men and women and lay faithful are invited to take seriously the prayer of Jesus in chapter 17 of the Gospel of John, “that they may all be one,” recognizing it as a criterion of judgment for the concrete life of communities.
The theologically most significant passage of the Declaration is linked to the commemoration of the 1700th anniversary of the Council of Nicaea. Leo XIV and Bartholomew recall that the 325 Council “was a providential event of unity” and that its memory is not mere archaeology, but a call to open ourselves to the same Holy Spirit who then spoke to the Church. It was not only a matter of settling a doctrinal controversy; it was a matter of confessing, with one voice, who Jesus Christ really is. The Declaration explicitly returns to the Nicene Creed: the Son is “true God from true God,” “of one substance with the Father” (homoousios), he became man “for us and for our salvation,” he died, rose, ascended into heaven and will one day come again to judge the living and the dead. From this confession also flows entry into the Trinitarian mystery: Father, Son and Holy Spirit, and the dignity of the baptized as sons in the Son and co-heirs with Christ through the grace of the Spirit.
It is precisely this common faith, prior to every schism, that is indicated as the starting point. Leo XIV and Bartholomew realistically acknowledge that there remain obstacles that prevent the full restoration of communion, and they recall the work of the Joint International Commission for Theological Dialogue, which is currently addressing historically divisive issues. But they add that, alongside doctrinal dossiers, there is a more fundamental given: what unites the two Churches is the same faith professed at Nicaea. It is this conviction that makes it possible to envisage “concrete solutions” to face today’s challenges together, without bracketing differences but without allowing them to stifle the heart of the Gospel. Within this framework, the question of the date of Easter finds its place, a matter that the Council of Nicaea had already sought to regulate according to common criteria. The Declaration sees as a sign of Providence the fact that this year all Christians celebrated Easter on the same day. From this arises the “common desire” to continue exploring a stable solution for a yearly unified celebration of the “Feast of Feasts.” The reference to the Letter to the Colossians – “in all spiritual wisdom and understanding” – suggests that this is not a mere adjustment of the calendar, but a step that entails ecclesial discernment and a conversion of perspective. In many parts of the world, especially where Catholics and Orthodox live side by side, a common Easter date would have an immediate pastoral impact, reducing confusion and offering a clearer witness of faith in the Resurrection. The document then looks to another anniversary, that of the Common Declaration of Saint Paul VI and Athenagoras in 1965, which ended the mutual excommunications of 1054. That act is read as a “prophetic gesture” that made it possible to embark on the road of trust, esteem and mutual charity, in view of a new full communion of faith, fraternity and sacramental life. The memory of 7 December 1965 is not mere celebration: today Leo XIV and Bartholomew ask that there be no turning back. In an unusual move for a text of this level, they address directly those who are “still hesitant about any form of dialogue,” inviting them to listen to what the Spirit is saying to the Churches. The message is clear: the choice for dialogue is neither a conciliar fashion nor a concession to modern mentality, but an obedient response to an action of the Spirit that has already marked the recent history of the two Churches.
Beyond the reiterated support for theological dialogue, the Declaration recalls that rapprochement cannot remain confined to the working tables of experts. Fraternal contacts, common prayer, and joint work in all areas where cooperation is already possible are presented as indispensable elements. The appeal is addressed in a particular way to clergy and theologians: to welcome with joy the fruits already achieved and to commit themselves to their increase means recognizing that ecumenism is not a parenthesis, but an ordinary dimension of ecclesial life and formation.
The horizon then widens to the whole world. The unity of Christians is explicitly linked to peace among peoples. The two signatories do not hide that they are “deeply alarmed” by the current international situation, marked by wars and violence that continue to destroy the lives of many. For this reason, they “fervently” raise their voice, invoking the divine gift of peace, asking political leaders to do everything possible to stop conflicts and inviting people of good will to support this plea. Here the Declaration introduces one of the strongest formulations of the text: the rejection of “any use of religion and of the Name of God to justify violence.” In a Middle Eastern and global context in which religious language is often used to motivate, cover or legitimize conflicts, the scope of this statement is considerable.
Linking back to the 60th anniversary of Nostra Aetate, Leo XIV and Bartholomew defend interreligious dialogue against two opposing suspicions: it is neither an identity threat that produces syncretism, nor a luxury for academics, but an “essential” condition for coexistence among peoples of different traditions. Here, too, a call to social justice and care for creation is introduced: only by working together for a more just world, less marked by indifference, the greed for profit and xenophobia, will the human family be able to overcome the temptation of domination and closure.
The conclusion of the text returns to the spiritual foundation. Faced with global crises, the hope of the two leaders cannot be reduced to human optimism. It is rooted in faith in a God who does not abandon humanity, in the Only-Begotten Son sent to save the world, in the Holy Spirit given to make us participants in the divine life and to defend the sacredness of the human person. For this reason, in prayer, Leo XIV and Bartholomew entrust to God every person, with particular attention to those who live in hunger, loneliness or illness, and ask that “their hearts may be consoled” and that, “intimately united in love,” they may be enriched with a full understanding of the mystery of God, which is Christ.
The Declaration signed today here in Istanbul does not by itself resolve the open questions between Rome and Constantinople, but it indicates an irreversible direction: to return to the faith of Nicaea as common ground, to work seriously toward a shared Easter, to take the acts of 1965 as a point of no return, to reject the violent instrumentalization of the Name of God, and to accept that unity, before being a juridical goal, is a spiritual task entrusted to the whole people of believers. From the Phanar, on this 29 November 2025, ecumenism is proposed again not as optional, but as an integral part of the credibility of the Gospel in a torn world that awaits, often without knowing it, a sign of reconciliation and peace.
f.G.D.
Silere non possum