Cardinal Pierbattista Pizzaballa stood among the rubble-strewn streets of Gaza last week, surveying the devastation surrounding Holy Family Church with Father Gabriel Romanelli, the parish pastor who has shepherded his flock through two years of relentless warfare. The scene before them told a story that goes far deeper than politics or territorial disputes.
“It really does seem that our Holy Land, which preserves the highest revelation and manifestation of God, is also the place of the highest manifestation of Satan’s power,” Cardinal Pizzaballa declared during his homily for the Assumption of Mary at the Benedictine Monastery of Abu Gosh in Israel. “And perhaps precisely because it is the place where the heart of salvation history is located, it is also the place where ‘the Ancient Adversary’ tries to assert himself more than anywhere else.”
The Latin Patriarch of Jerusalem oversees a diocese that spans not only Israel but also the Palestinian territories of Gaza and the West Bank. This unique position has given him a front-row seat to what he describes as nothing less than a cosmic battle between good and evil playing out on the very ground where Christ was born, died, and rose again.
Drawing from the Book of Revelation’s vivid imagery of “the enormous dragon with seven heads and 10 diadems,” Cardinal Pizzaballa painted a picture that resonates with many American Catholics watching the conflict unfold. The dragon, he explained, represents “a very clear representation of the power of evil in the world, of Satan” that “will never cease to assert himself and rage in the world, especially ‘against those who keep God’s commandments and bear witness to Jesus.'”
This spiritual framework for understanding Middle Eastern violence offers American Catholics a lens through which to view not only events in the Holy Land, but also the broader cultural battles raging in their own communities. Just as the dragon seeks to dominate the birthplace of Christianity, similar forces challenge religious freedom and Christian witness across the globe, including here in the United States.
The cardinal’s words carry particular weight given his firsthand experience with the human cost of this conflict. He has celebrated Mass in bomb-damaged churches, comforted grieving families, and witnessed the resilience of Christian communities caught in the crossfire. “We will have to struggle with the consequences of this war on people’s lives for a long time to come,” he acknowledged, speaking of the desire for revenge that will outlast any ceasefire.
Yet Cardinal Pizzaballa refused to surrender to despair. Instead, he pointed to the Assumption of Mary as the antidote to the dragon’s rage.
“The power of the dragon cannot prevail in the face of a birth, a mother who gives birth, who generates life,” he proclaimed. “The dragon cannot triumph over the seed of life, the fruit of love.”
This message of hope grounded in faith offers American Catholics a roadmap for engaging their own cultural moment. Just as the Church in the Holy Land plants “seeds of life” in the face of overwhelming violence, Catholics in America are called to be that “presence that the dragon cannot overcome” in their schools, workplaces and communities.
The patriarch’s spiritual diagnosis aligns with a growing recognition among Catholic conservatives that many contemporary conflicts cannot be understood through purely political or economic analysis. Whether examining the persecution of Christians in the Middle East or the erosion of religious freedom in American public life, the same spiritual dynamics are often at work.
Cardinal Pizzaballa emphasized that Christians today are called to persevere “because we know that the dragon will continue to rage through history” even as “we know that sooner or later the dragon will be defeated.” This long view of history provides context for Catholics facing their own battles over religious liberty, the protection of human life, and the preservation of traditional family values.
The cardinal concluded his homily with words that bridge the distance between the war-torn Holy Land and parish churches across America:
“So as we rise from the Eucharistic table, today, we carry with us the certainty of Christ’s victory over death, the conviction that our life, however much it may be turned upside down by the dramatic events of today, is nevertheless the place where the dragon will not prevail, for it is a life bathed in the blood of the Lamb, in God’s infinite love.”
For Catholics committed to defending both faith and freedom, Cardinal Pizzaballa’s message offers both sobering realism and unshakeable hope. The dragon may rage in the Holy Land and beyond, but the seed of life planted by Christ and nurtured by His Church will ultimately prevail. The question for American Catholics is whether they will recognize their role in tending that seed in their own time and place.
