by Giorgio Bernardelli

From Bergamo, 60-year-old Cardinal Pierbattista Pizzaballa brings the “Mother Church” back among the electors of a Pope for the first time in centuries. Living in Jerusalem for the past 35 years, the Franciscan friar has long been engaged in dialogue with both Judaism and Islam. He served for 12 years as Custos of the Holy Land. Throughout the many tragic episodes of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict—including the past two years—he has called for cultivating the freedom of peace, refusing to be crushed by hatred, and making the Gospel resound once again in the land of Jesus.

Milan (AsiaNews) – A Latin Patriarch of Jerusalem participating in a papal conclave is something that hasn’t happened in centuries. The last time dates back to when the title was held by an archbishop living far from the Holy Land, before 1847, when Pius IX restored the position as a true residential seat in Jerusalem.

Beyond all the commentary currently circulating in global media about him, this fact alone highlights the significance of Cardinal Pierbattista Pizzaballa’s presence among the electors who are now gathering in the Sistine Chapel.

A representative of the “Mother Church” of Jerusalem among those choosing the successor of Peter. But also a bishop who, with personal authority and spiritual depth, has consistently reminded the world that Jerusalem is, first and foremost, the place of Pentecost—the launching point of the Gospel’s proclamation to all nations.

Cardinal Pizzaballa was born in 1965 in Cologno al Serio, in the Diocese of Bergamo, the same diocese that gave the Church Pope John XXIII. He entered the seminaries of the Conventual Franciscans at a young age, professed solemn vows in 1989, and was ordained a priest in Bologna the following year by Cardinal Giacomo Biffi.

But it was Jerusalem and the Holy Land—where he has now lived for 35 years—that marked his life. He arrived in the Holy City in 1990 as a student at the Studium Biblicum Franciscanum, where he specialized in theology and Scripture—subjects he taught as a biblical scholar and that remain foundational to his preaching.

He also studied at the Hebrew University on Mount Scopus, where he deepened his understanding of modern Hebrew, Jewish culture, and Semitic languages.

His service within the Vicariate of St. James—the small Hebrew-speaking Catholic community within the Latin Patriarchate—was his first major pastoral role, beginning in the mid-1990s. A key moment was the opening of the Simeon and Anna House in the heart of Jerusalem’s modern Jewish neighborhood, near Jaffa Road, during the 2000 Jubilee, initiated by then-Patriarch Michel Sabbah.

His ministry also involved cultural outreach to help the Church rediscover its Jewish roots—translating liturgical texts into modern Hebrew and publishing books about Jesus for audiences unfamiliar with Him. “In doing this,” he said at the time, “we experience the same struggle as St. Paul: we realize that certain Gospel words require entirely new categories to be translated into Hebrew.”

During the deadly Second Intifada, as suicide bombings shook the Jaffa Road area, he personally encountered the violence of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. He and his community strove to remain “custodians of the freedom of the Gospel,” bearing witness to peace and reconciliation from both sides of the divide.

In 2004, his fellow Franciscans elected him Custos of the Holy Land, head of the Franciscan province that, in the spirit of St. Francis, serves in Israel, Palestine, Syria, Lebanon, Jordan, Cyprus, and Egypt.

The friars are custodians of the holy sites, but as Pizzaballa often emphasized, they are above all guardians of the “living stones”—the local Christian communities that suffer under conflict but remain fertile ground for the Gospel to take root again in daily life. As Custos, he welcomed Pope Benedict XVI to Jerusalem in 2009 and Pope Francis in 2014.

He also witnessed the changing face of Catholic pilgrims to the Holy Land—no longer predominantly European or North American, but increasingly from Africa, Latin America, and Asia.

When his term as Custos ended in 2016, he was preparing to return to Italy. But to his surprise, Pope Francis appointed him Apostolic Administrator of the Latin Patriarchate of Jerusalem, at a time of financial crisis. His response was to turn the crisis into an opportunity: “Let’s stop feeling sorry for ourselves,” he said, “and try to discern what the Lord is asking of us in this situation. It’s not just about raising funds to cover debts but about focusing on what matters most: service to our people.”

As always, he returned to the Word of God—he has published a Gospel reflection every Sunday for years on the Patriarchate’s website. Thanks to his restored trust and leadership, Pope Francis appointed him full Patriarch in 2020—a significant choice after two Arab predecessors, signaling the local community’s respect and affection for him. That same community rejoiced with him at his historic elevation to cardinal in the September 2023 consistory.

Just days later, the Middle East once again descended into chaos with Hamas’s October 7 attacks and Israel’s harsh response in Gaza. Over the past two years, AsiaNews has chronicled his steadfast message of peace, his concrete closeness to the small Christian community of Gaza’s Holy Family Parish—which he physically visited during one of the war’s darkest moments—and his repeated calls to view events through the lens of faith.

On Christmas 2023, he bitterly noted that the rejection once experienced by Mary and Joseph—when “there was no room” for them in Bethlehem—now seems to apply to the entire Palestinian people. And just days ago, on Easter, he said: “Today’s world has a poor, even offensive idea of peace: too many promises have been betrayed. Against human logic of power, violence, and war, our Church must oppose the logic of life, justice, and forgiveness.”

Still, Cardinal Pizzaballa is not one to be boxed into the role of “pastor from a land of conflict.” “You journalists always ask me about Israelis and Palestinians, the occupation, the wall,” he said in an interview a few years ago.

“But the real question we should ask is: why does the Church still care about Jerusalem? It seems to me we’re paying the price for a lack of serious reflection on this. The Church must rediscover Jerusalem as a topos, a real place—not just a spiritual symbol. In this time of reevaluating who we are as a community and the kind of witness we must offer, we should all return to Jerusalem. What does it mean for Christians? In what sense do we call it the Mother Church? Why do we keep coming here? There must be a reason beyond a certain kind of refined devotionalism.”