Homily on Restorative Justice, by Most Rev. Hartmayer, Archbishop of Atlanta

Opening Mass of the National Catholic Conference on Restorative Justice
“Tangible Signs of Hope”

Homily of Most Reverend Gregory J. Hartmayer, OFM Conv., Archbishop of Atlanta
Atlanta, September 25, 2025

• First Reading: Romans 5:5-11 “God’s love has been poured out into our hearts.”
• Responsorial Psalm: Ps 89 (88):21-22, 25 and 27
• Gospel: Luke 4:16-21 “He has sent me to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

We are gathered for this national Catholic Conference on Restorative Justice, on the topic: “Tangible Signs of Hope”. In the First Reading, we hear that “God proves his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us.” (Rm 5:8) Our hope is grounded in something very real, that Christ died for us while we were still sinners. It is not naive optimism. Rather, it is the deep conviction that God’s mercy is stronger than any sin — that reconciliation is possible even when it seems impossible. Our hope rests not in our goodness or our success, but in the extravagant mercy of God. It’s not about us, it’s about God working through us. It’s he who reconciles us to himself. That is the starting point for restorative justice. We do not come to this work because people deserve it. We come because God, in Christ, has shown mercy to us. We come because we believe that no one is beyond the reach of redemption—no situation beyond the possibility of transference in the cross of Christ. We see that God can take even the most brutal injustice and turn it into the source of salvation. No one is beyond redemption, and the story of every life is more than its worst moment.

The Responsorial Psalm reminds us of the faithfulness of God’s covenant: “My faithfulness and mercy will be with him; through my name his horn will be exalted.” (Ps 89 (88):25) God’s justice is never separated from his mercy. There has always been a dilemma, particularly in canon law, between justice and mercy. God’s power is exercised in tenderness and fidelity. When we take up the work of restorative justice, we are called to mirror that same divine pattern of justice: justice rooted in mercy; power expressed in healing. 

In the Gospel, we hear Jesus in the synagogue of Nazareth proclaiming his mission: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring glad tidings to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim liberty to captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, and to proclaim a year acceptable to the Lord.” (Luke 4:18-19) This is not an abstract mission—it is tangible, concrete and embodied. The blind receive sight, the poor hear good news, prisoners walk free, oppression is broken.

Jesus inaugurates the kingdom of God by restoring what was broken and by reconciling those who were estranged. That is precisely what restorative justice seeks to do: to embody Christ’s mission in concrete ways, to stand with the poor, to accompany those in prison, to listen to the stories of the victims, to break cycles of violence, to heal communities torn apart by crime and punishment. Those are tangible things that we can do. We can make a difference. We can initiate change. When Pope Francis opened the Holy Door in Rome’s largest prison**, he said: “I wanted all of us, inside or out, to have an opportunity to throw open the doors of our hearts and understand that hope does not disappoint.” We are each called to be beacons of hope. When we speak of “tangible signs of hope”, we are speaking very practically of lived realities: 

A victim of violence who finds his or her voice and experiences healing through a restorative encounter: that’s something real—it doesn’t just automatically happen, sometimes it’s a process that takes a lifetime, for someone to experience the strength and the grace to be able to bring forgiveness to the perpetrator; 

The incarcerated man who discovers that he is more than his worst mistake and begins to walk a new path; 
A community that chooses dialogue over vengeance and reconciliation over division; 
A Church that embodies Christ’s mercy by standing with the marginalized and insisting that no one is disposable, that every person is made in the image and likeness of God, and that God does not make mistakes.

Hope becomes tangible when it is seen and touched and lived in these ways, but let us be clear that hope is not easy. Pope Leo XIV was recently speaking about the mission of the Church in today’s wounded world, saying that: “hope is not an escape from reality. It is the courage to build new realities, to heal what is broken, and to believe that God’s mercy can make all things new.” That is the spirit that we bring to this conference. Hope must be lived in our communities, in our prisons, in our policies, and in our parishes.

As we gather here this evening, two executions are scheduled to occur tonight: Geoffrey West in Alabama and Blaine Milam in Texas. Victor Jones is scheduled to be executed on September 30th in Florida. These are real people, these are real names, these are real situations. Let us remember these men and communities in our prayers. How often Pope Francis reminded us that the death penalty encourages revenge, not justice. They talk about closure—“The death penalty brings closure”; “an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth”—it doesn’t, it doesn’t! Only the healing power of God’s grace will bring healing to a heart that is so destroyed by violence. It’s not the death penalty that is going to resolve or bring peace into that person’s life. We know only too well that restorative justice is not a quick fix. It asks us to walk into the pain of others, to face wounds that run deep, and to believe — even when it is costly — that mercy has the last word. Living in this way requires patience, courage, and perseverance. It requires us to enter into the reality of human sin and suffering, trusting that God’s mercy is greater. That is why we gathered here is so important. Together as the Body of Christ, we encourage one another in this work and remind each other that the Spirit of the Lord is upon us.

As we begin this conference, let us entrust our work to the Lord who reconciles us to the Cross. May our conversations, our learning, and our prayer make us instruments of the mercy we ourselves have received. May this conference itself become a tangible sign of hope for victims, for offenders, for communities, and for our Church. The world desperately needs to see that the Gospel is not only words but life. It is not only promise but practice. It is not only hope spoken but hope made flesh. And so we echo Jesus in today’s Gospel: today, this Scripture passage is fulfilled in your hearing, through your work. May it be fulfilled in our Church and in our world, and may the Lord grant us his peace. 

**For the 2025 Jubilee of Hope, after opening the Holy Door of St. Peter’s Basilica on 24 December 2024, the late Pope Francis opened a Second Holy Door at Rome’s Rebibbia Prison and celebrated Mass there for the first time.