(a ministerial note to my congregation at the end of April, 2025)
We survived Lent. We survived Holy Week. We survived Easter.
There are so many people in the world who are not surviving. We see them daily, hear about them in the news, read about them in social media, hear ministers and politicians and friends discussing them.
One who barely survived Easter: Pope Francis, who died the day after.
I expect every minister I know as a friend has made either spoken or written comments about this Pope, a man different from any other religious leader of our, or any, time. He was the first pope ever to identify with the most unlikely saint: St Francis of Assisi. Many popes took the names of apostles: John, Mark; others, Biblical characters: Paul, Zacharias, Stephanus,; still others, great saints: Gregory, Benedict, Eugenius, Boniface, etc. Jorge Mario Bergoglio chose the name “Francis.”
He was a Jesuit (yes, the order formed by St. Ignatius Loyola, who played heavily in my April 13 sermon). He was from Argentina. He was not without his critics. He leaned toward doctrinal conservatism as a priest, bishop, and eventual cardinal. But his fame was mostly as a defender of the poor and marginalized in society.
As Pope, he was less formal than his predecessors. On the night of his election, he took a bus to his hotel with the other cardinals rather than being driven in the papal car. He refused to live in the papal palace but instead remained in the Vatican guest house in a suite where he received visitors and held meetings. He even wore his own brown shoes to his papal coronation rather than the famous red slippers of his predecessors.
He chose the name Francis because, as he explained, “(Francis) brought to Christianity an idea of poverty against luxury, pride, vanity of the civil and ecclesiastical powers of the time. He changed history.”
His papacy was radical by modern terms. He said that all religions were a way to God. He included women in some areas of church leadership. He was an environmentalist and an ecumenist, encouraging dialogue with other religions and Christian traditions.
Francis thanked journalists for uncovering the scandal of clergy abuse of children. He visited in prisons, washed prisoners’ feet, worked for the eradication of poverty and war, began to recognize the rights of the LGBTQ community, placed women in places of responsibility in the church (although rejected outright ordination of them!), and always, always, talked of God’s mercy.
Francis had a spirit of humility about him. If I take anything away from observing him, it is what is called his “recognizable humanity.” Shortly before his death, he donated most of his personal wealth to support a pasta-making project at a youth prison in Rome.
I don’t know about you, but when I look around at the religious scene these days, there aren’t any other “Francis types” in obvious places. Perhaps that’s because true humility hides its piousness and replaces it with quiet acts of love, kindness, affirmation of human beings, peace, justice, and mercy: what some might call true Christian values.
I pray I’m one of them.
God bless you, Pope Francis. May we learn to walk in your way, which was, I think, the way of your – and our – Lord Jesus.