Malta Hails First Millennial Blessed: How Carlo Acutis Is Re-Wiring the Nation’s Faith

Archbishop Charles Scicluna’s voice rang clear across St John’s Co-Cathedral on Saturday morning as he quoted the newly-canonised Blessed Carlo Acutis: “The Eucharist is my highway to heaven.” The packed Baroque nave—usually a tourist hotspot—was standing-room-only with Maltese families, scouts in neckerchiefs and teens clutching smartphones streaming the Mass live. It was 28 September 2025, the feast of Malta’s patron saint Wigbert, but the buzz on everyone’s lips was Acutis, the 21-year-old “cyber-apostle” who died in 2006 and was declared blessed in Rome last night, becoming the first millennial on the road to sainthood.

“Carlo didn’t wait for permission to evangelise,” Scicluna told the congregation, weaving English, Maltese and Italian the way only a shepherd who grew up in Sliema can. “He used the tools of his age—websites, PlayStation, memes—to share the Gospel. Our children can do the same from their bedrooms in Birkirkara or their classrooms in Gozo.” The quote ricocheted across WhatsApp groups before the incense had cleared, echoing a national mood that fuses Catholic identity with digital savvy.

Outside, vendors hawked limited-edition €2 stamps bearing Acutis’ face super-imposed on Valletta’s skyline; 5,000 sold out by noon. One stall, run by 17-year-old Aidan Pace from Żejtun, accepted Revolut payments and promised to plant one tree in Malta for every pack bought. “If Carlo could code for Christ, I can at least go carbon-neutral,” Aidan grinned, hoodie emblazoned #eucharistcode. His mother, wiping tears, admitted she’d initially feared the Church was “losing the kids”. “Today I saw them queue for confession like it’s a drop-in TikTok studio.”

The timing is culturally potent. September 28 also marks the 445th anniversary of the Great Siege’s turning point, when Grandmaster Jean Parisot de Valette’s knights repelled Ottoman forces. Homilies drew deliberate parallels: past generations defended Malta with swords and rosaries, today’s youth can “defend dignity online”, as Fr Joe Mizzi put it during the 7 pm vigil in Floriana. Tourists wandering from the Siege bell-casting display to the open-air altar looked bewildered but snapped photos anyway, hashtagging #MaltaFaith&Fortress.

Local impact is already measurable. The Malta Pastoral Research Office released instant survey data: 63 % of Catholic youths aged 13-25 say Acutis’ canonisation makes them “more likely” to attend Sunday Mass regularly, up 18 points from June. More tangibly, the Archdiocese announced a €250,000 grant for parish coding clubs, matched by GamingMalta, the industry regulator that usually frets over poker licences. “Evangelisation is the ultimate gamification,” said CEO Ivan Filletti, half-joking.

Yet not everyone is cheering. In a coffee queue in Republic Street, philosophy student Leanne Ellul argued the Church is “re-branding rather than reforming”. “Quotes about heaven don’t erase clerical abuse files,” she whispered, referencing last month’s court payout to victims of a 1980s college scandal. Her friend, altar server Nathan Azzopardi, countered that Acutis’ short life “proves holiness isn’t institutional; it’s personal”. Their debate drew nods from German backpackers clutching guidebooks—evidence that Malta’s religious news still doubles as cultural theatre for visitors.

By sunset, the church bells merged with boat horns in Grand Harbour. A flotilla of traditional dgħajjes lit up with LED rosaries—courtesy of a Gozitan boat-owner who works in iGaming—ferried parish youth groups to a harbour-front Eucharistic adoration. As the monstrance was raised against the honey-stone bastions, Archbishop Scicluna quoted Pope Francis’ tweet of the day: “Holiness means going viral with charity.” Teenagers immediately retweeted, geotagging Malta.

Conclusion: Whether seen as divine algorithm or medieval relic, the canonisation of Carlo Acutis has given Malta a home-grown cyber-saint who speaks the language of memes and Minecraft. In a country whose national anthem prays “Guard her, O Lord, as ever thou hast guarded,” the fusion of bytes and benedictions feels less like contradiction, more like continuity. For locals, the challenge now is to let the buzz catalyse sustained community service; for tourists, the island just added another layer of soul beneath the sunshine. As the last ferry hooted and parish bands struck up, one thing was clear: in Malta, faith still trends.