I had the unforgettable benefit of sharing in this day of prayer and fasting in communion with believers of the whole world.

At 9:00 am the Pope entered the Basilica of St. Mary of the Angels alone to recollect himself for a few moments at the Portiuncula, this tiny chapel where St. Francis died on the bare earth. It was only in this spirit of total deprivation that he could then go to the door to welcome the representatives of the major religions and various Christian confessions. We know that Christ, with extended arms, welcomes all peoples until the end of the world, but the humble figure of St. Francis was a more discreet and no less obvious image for all believers of the heart of God, the Father of all. A great deal of humility was required, particularly on the part of the leaders of non-Christian religions, to agree to the invitation of the Pope. But who could turn from the call of St. Francis? Gentleness and respect for what is best in all peoples, mutual pardon for so many weaknesses and a willingness to develop to a greater extent the seeds of goodness and beauty which are revealed in the eyes of all who pray: this is the Franciscan spirit which dominated the day of October 27.

The successive entrance of the Dalai Lama and about thirty non-Christian religious leaders, followed by a similar number of leaders of Christian confessions was probably the most moving moment. We were taking part in a great turning point in the history of humanity. All of these religions who had lived for centuries in haughty isolation now agreed to welcome one another as such.

After singing Psalm 148 in Greek: “Let everything that lives praise the Lord,” we remained for a long moment in silence and gave thanks for such spiritual richness finally joined together, and for such poverty of heart in the face of the grave problems of the world which surround us. The Pope then addressed a few words of welcome to the participants and recalled the purpose of the day. A Japanese choir chanted a hymn and the assembly set out towards the center of Assisi to pray separately in twelve places of worship, according to the major religious traditions.

As John Paul II had emphasized, we had “not come here for an interreligious conference on peace, but rather to invite the world to realize that there exists another dimension of peace and another way to promote it.”

From 11:00 a.m. to 1:00 p.m. we prayed throughout the town in all the ways that the Spirit inspired, with the Vedas, Sutras, the Koran, the Avesta, the Psalms, the Gospel, with incense, flowers, water, fire, and the peace pipe. And we knew that in five other Churches, various Christians of Assisi were united for adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, while an innumerable number of others throughout the world were united with this universal supplication.

“The challenge of peace transcends all religions,” the Holy Father said in the afternoon. The word peace is at the heart of all religions: shalom, shanti, hei-an, salaam, mir, eirene, pax! These words are employed in all prayers with a profound plenitude of meaning, and yet peace remains elusive. No one has been able to root out the instincts for war. This is why people have lost interest in religion. The one same spirit of penitence thus united us. This common meditation on the present state of the world in which open warfare has broken out in forty-three countries led us to truly take account of the problems of the world and to situate them at the heart of our faith. Without neglecting the necessary negotiations, the political compromises and the economic redistribution, we became aware of the necessity of faith to remove such mountains of injustice and bitterness. For this reason the prayer was accompanied by fasting in solidarity with all those who are deprived of the necessities of life because of egoism. Mother Teresa of Calcutta was with us, fragile and ardent, the incarnation for our times of the Poverello of Assisi.

The representatives of the traditional religions of Africa and America also reminded us in an opportune way of the necessary respect with which we are to hear witness to “our mother earth who sustains and nourishes us.” During the working meeting which the representatives of the major religions held the next day, several defined the “spirit of Assisi” which they had received as a new responsibility for this earth of peoples.

When the Pope put forth this prophetic idea of a day of prayer for peace, he knew that he already had the participation of the Dalai Lama, the major Rabbi of Rome, the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Secretary General of the World Council of Churches. The time had come to bring to light the conviction of the necessity of a common prayer for justice, peace and the integrity of nature. But it was necessary that someone take the initiative. The meeting for prayer in the afternoon outside the Basilica of St. Francis showed the world what could come from the general mobilization of the spiritual forces of religion. Until then, peace had been a subject for neutral conversation, which enabled something to be said at interreligious reunions without broaching the religious subjects where no agreement seemed possible. On the contrary, the day at Assisi served to situate the meeting together at the very heart of the religious life. This is the reason why it was a turning point in the history of humanity. We know that material kingdoms meet together and encounter on the outer frontiers, that is to say, in what is more exterior; the spiritual kingdoms, on the other hand, meet together and encounter one another through the heart. The heart, emptied by prayer of all presumption, can enter into communion with others.

At this level, there need be no fear of syncretism and confusion. The safeguards against this were very significant in this regard. During an interreligious conference one might be strongly tempted to certain compromises, passing in silence the differences, in order to facilitate the common action or in minimizing every religious expression in the hope of building a superreligion. But here each of the representatives who came to pray before the rest clearly expressed his own religious conviction. And nevertheless these professions of faith included in the prayer were not offensive to anyone, for they were situated at a deeper level than formulations and were supported by a preoccupation for peace among all peoples of good will which went beyond religious divisions.

We are here living out a mystery which can be expressed only in a negative way: it has been said in many ways what this prayer is not, but the ineffable reality remains no less striking: we have all intensely participated in the prayer of each one. We have not merely assisted at the prayer of non-Christians. Their words were assuredly those of their own tradition, but they were borne this time within a more vast movement of prayer which was truly that of all. Each one named God by the Name which He bears in their own religion. The Christians have repeated the desire “Christ is our peace.” Curiously enough, there was almost no allusion to the Holy Spirit. He was too near; He penetrated the heart of each one too intimately. And nevertheless it was truly He Who animated the entire assembly. Truly “it is good and salutary to know that wherever one prays in the world, the Holy Spirit, the living breath of prayer, is present” (Encyclical Dominum et Vivificantem of John Paul II, n. 65). It is the one and same Spirit Who inspires us to an exclusive choice for the Lord Jesus Who also invites us to the unconditional acceptance of all peoples and the diversity of their religious experiences.

For this reason the most important part was not the moment of spoken prayer, but the silence which followed. More important than this time of prayer at Assisi on the afternoon of October 27 was the fact that each one, on returning to their own world of habitual prayer, could never again pray as before. We have shared in the experience of a humble and respectful participation, which was also filled with wonder and gratitude for this movement which animates all religious peoples throughout the world, and this will forever mark our own religious life.

The ecumenism between Christians also can never be the same. In the presence of the representatives of other religions, the functional unity of all the disciples of Christ was obvious. When they moved to regroup within the assembly in order to hear the Gospel and to pray together “Lord, have mercy,” we all understood that a decisive step had been taken. In the face of the great problems of the world, the differences were situated in their proper place, which is secondary. And the diversity of confessions henceforth expressed mainly the richness of the Christian tradition.

Certainly many questions still remain. One should not give way to a naive euphoria. But such prophetic events mark a turning point. After Assisi, the situation of dialogue is completely new: a type of interconfessional and interreligious encounter has been officially inaugurated. A better awareness of the grave responsibility of believers in the world of today enables us to avoid sterile controversies or abstract discussions and the experience of a mysterious encounter in prayer invites us all to henceforth situate the encounter at the living source of our faith.

We must note in closing the participation of many Christian monks in this event, the presence of the Abbot Primate of the Benedictines, and the hospitality offered by the Abbey of St. Paul Outside the Walls to the Dalai Lama and by the Abbey of St. Peter at Assisi to the Buddhist community in prayer. The day at Assisi is a precious indication and an encouragement for our interreligious monastic dialogue.