Among the seven corporal works of mercy, “visiting the sick” takes on a very special significance, since drawing close to those who suffer represents a profound and emblematic way of approaching – in the words of Pope Francis – the living and suffering flesh of Jesus Christ.
Servant of the suffering
The immediate evangelical reference goes to the parable of the “Good Samaritan” (Lk 10:25-37), an icon of Jesus, who took upon Himself our infirmities, redeeming us from sin, death, and their consequences, of which suffering in all its forms is the sign in the biblical reading. An icon of Jesus and at the same time – like the other works of mercy – a credible sign of incarnation and discernment regarding the authenticity of one’s personal profession of faith in the Risen Crucified Lord and of love for God and for one’s neighbor, especially the weak, the poor, and the suffering (1 Jn 3:23-24).
Furthermore, visiting the sick according to the heart of Jesus Christ assimilates us to Him and, like Him, having put on the apron in serving suffering people. It assimilates us to Him as the “Christus medicus” of souls and bodies.
A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho when he fell into the hands of robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him, and went off leaving him half dead. A priest happened to be going down that road; he saw the injured man, walked by on the other side of the road, and continued on. Likewise, a Levite of the Temple passed by that place; he saw him, avoided him, and went on.
Instead, a Samaritan who was traveling came near him, saw him, and was moved with compassion. He went up to him, poured oil and wine on his wounds, and bandaged them. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. The next day he took out two silver coins, gave them to the innkeeper, and said: “Take care of him, and whatever more you spend, I will repay you when I come back.”
My neighbor
In the dialogue between Jesus and the scholar of the law, both agree that love for God and for one’s neighbor is the necessary condition to inherit eternal life.
The issue becomes more delicate when deciding “who is my neighbor”. To explain this, Jesus tells the parable. He sees, stops, and feels compassion. That is, He feels involved.
Compassion, therefore, is not merely an emotion, but an action that produces care for the other. Jesus thus invites the scholar of the law – and us today – to enter into the logic of the parable.
To act like the Samaritan. To ask not so much “who is my neighbor” (as if I could choose whom to help), but “to whom must I be a neighbor” (and therefore to everyone, beginning with whoever is next to me).
That good Samaritan is Jesus. It is He who, passing along the path of history, noticed how wounded humanity was. He drew near to us to the point of becoming one of us, Man. He took upon His shoulders our life, so battered by sin. He took care of us.
And starting from Jesus, each of us is called today to “do likewise”. Every Christian Community is called to “do the same”. If only because Jesus did it for us: “We love because He first loved us” (1 Jn 4:19). Loving one’s neighbor is loving God Himself (Parish of S. Maria Assunta – Bibione).
The other person before me
The expression “visiting the sick” carries at least three further meanings. First, the verb “to visit” refers to being concretely present to the other, not in words, but in deeds, especially when it costs sacrifice, considering what Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta – a beloved icon of Pope Bergoglio in the Jubilee Year of Mercy – affirmed regarding every gesture of charity toward one’s neighbor: if it does not cost, it risks being worth very little in the eyes of God.
Second, “visiting” also speaks of mercy not being episodic, in the sense that it does not stop at a single charitable act, but seeks continuity, systematicity, and organization by all possible means, as the parable shows.
Indeed, not only does the Good Samaritan provide first aid, but he takes charge of the suffering victim by carrying him to a place where he can be cared for, paying out of his own pocket, and committing himself to remaining present.
Finally, visiting means creativity in action: presence, touch, word, gaze, prayer. The term “sick” ultimately implies at least two aspects.
First, sickness is not limited to physical illness, but encompasses psychological, spiritual, and moral suffering. Indeed, these levels often intersect, requiring a holistic approach through discernment to identify the most appropriate ways to meet that suffering individual.
Second, the sick person is an image of the Christus patiens (suffering Christ), regardless of social or economic status, nationality, religious faith, or worldview.
Ultimately, “visiting the sick” is revealed as a confirmation of Christian realism, which looks at the reality of man in his entirety and integrity as an eminent value, moving from the immanence of the human condition and pain toward the transcendent origin and fulfillment of human life (Dario Sacchini).
Benedict XVI, who in “Spe salvi” (nos. 35-40) presents acting and suffering as places of learning hope, wherein suffering accepted and offered is a miracle of love, states:
“I should like to add a further little comment which is not entirely irrelevant to the affairs of every day. There used to be a form of devotion that included the idea of ‘offering up’ the minor daily hardships that continually strike us like more or less bothersome pinpricks, thus giving them a meaning. What did ‘offering up’ mean? These people were convinced that they could insert their little troubles into the great compassion of Christ, so that they became part of the treasury of compassion so greatly needed by the human race. Perhaps we should really ask ourselves whether such a thing might not once again become a sensible perspective for us as well” (40).
Is not suffering accepted and offered, alongside sincere and selfless sharing, a miracle of love? (Don Gino Oliosi)
Prayer
O Christ, physician of bodies and souls, watch over our sick and suffering brother;
and, like the good Samaritan, pour onto his wounds the oil of consolation and the wine of hope.
With the healing grace of your Spirit,
illumine the difficult experience of illness and pain, so that, lifted up in body and soul,
he may join us in giving thanks to the Father of mercies.
You live and reign forever and ever.
Illustration by Sister Marie-Anastasia Carré (Communauté des Béatitudes)

Italy



Being Witnesses of Mercy – ILLUMINATE
2 February 2026