Remembering Pope Francis
Pope Francis passed away today at 88. He died in his Vatican residence, just one day after Easter. His final public words were a blessing for peace — fitting for a man whose papacy was defined by compassion, humility, and care for those often forgotten.
Born Jorge Mario Bergoglio, he made history when he became the first Latin American pope in 2013. But what really set him apart was how deeply human he remained in the role. He rejected the palatial papal apartment in favor of a guesthouse. He rode in a Ford Focus. He kissed the feet of refugees, washed the feet of prisoners, and reminded everyone — especially church leaders — that power should serve, not dominate.
He preached a Gospel rooted in mercy. He told us not to judge people for being gay. He welcomed divorced and remarried Catholics back to the table. He called for civil unions long before it was safe to do so in church circles. He said the death penalty has no place in a modern, moral world. And he warned against what he called a “globalization of indifference” — where people become numb to suffering.
He challenged the rich and powerful too. In Laudato Si’, his climate encyclical, he called on all of us — especially governments and corporations — to protect our planet and prioritize the poor. In Fratelli Tutti, he laid out a vision of solidarity and social friendship, one that didn’t rely on borders or tribes but on shared human dignity.
Was he perfect? No. No pope is. He faced resistance inside the Vatican. Some of his reforms were incomplete. But he opened doors that had been shut for centuries. And he changed the global conversation — not just within the Church, but beyond it.
Pope Francis reminded us that faith, at its best, means showing up for others. Listening more than speaking. Walking with the wounded. Being brave enough to choose love over fear.
That legacy matters. And it will live on — not just in Vatican halls, but wherever people are still trying to live with kindness, humility, and hope.
Rest in peace, Pope Francis. You were the shepherd we needed.