(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.
About jamiebrame
Greetings, fellow earthlings. I'm the retired Program Director at Christmount, the national retreat, camp, and conference center of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), in Black Mountain, NC. From September 2019 through October, 2020, I served Timberlake Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) in Lynchburg, VA, as interim minister. After taking more than a year off, First Christian Church (DoC), Wilson, NC, offered me the position of Interim Minister, beginning May 10, 2022.
Originally from Eden, NC, I graduated from John Motley Morehead High School, earned a BA in Religion and Philosophy at Atlantic Christian College (now Barton College), and eked out a Master of Divinity from the Divinity School at Duke University. I served, in various positions, churches (part time and full time) in North Carolina and Georgia, and have lived in Black Mountain, NC, since 1989. I married Renae in 1992 (she refers to these years as "looooooooooong" years.
I've spent the past 50 years or so trying to practice Christian contemplative prayer with some touches of Zen meditation to help the journey along. Married to a wife who is much holier than I am, I am fortunate to learn from her daily about how to do this thing called spirituality. Being an ordained minister doesn't make me holy (but occasionally, as you'll read, a little sanctimonious, so forgive me in advance!); but I hope that I put my education to good use.
I'd love to be considered a spiritual teacher, but I know myself too well to claim that. While I do a bit of teaching, I think the best teaching we do is when we remain silent (the old desert abba said something like, "if you won't learn from my silence, you won't learn from my talking"). But silence shouldn't turn into quietism, and we do have to speak out and act for justice and fairness and equality for all.
I frequently ask myself the question, "Does it matter?" about the major - and minor - issues of the day. What I think matters: love for God, equality, fairness, loving our neighbor, feeding hungry people, housing homeless ones, clothing naked ones, and especially caring for children; basically, caring for those who have some trouble caring for themselves. AND our relationship with God.
What doesn't matter: what you think of me. I'm not very Christ-like. You won't hear me talking about all the things I do for others, or all the things I do for God - I was taught that It's not about me, and using good works to get attention for myself isn't what Christian faith is about - look up "narcissism" on Google. I'm not sure Jesus thinks it matters much that I am like him or not, but I do. The old story from the rabbis is probably apropo: when I am hauled up before God at the end of time, God isn't going to ask me why I wasn't more like someone else: I will be asked why I wasn't more like me. The rabbis tell the story better.
I'm still a work in progress, as Renae will attest to.
Finally, I just hope that something you read here will make you think. Use what you can, ignore the rest. Go read some of the desert saints. Read the classics. Take care of people, never point to yourself, and don't follow me: I'm just hoping to be one more signpost to God.
And as one friend reminded me the week before I left Christmount, "It matters."
Oh, and my favorite color is probably blue, and I love cats, and I love my wife's music. I don't like beets.
Does It Matter 