Just before 8 pm, I looked down at my phone. It read, “Pope Francis has died.” My long-lost friend for the past 12 years had gone to God. Sadness pervaded my heart— as though I had lost a loving parent.
Francis took office in March of 2013, being told at his election to “remember the poor.” He took the name of Saint Francis of Assisi in a time and culture that valued money, business, entertainment and overconsumption. You taught us to be brothers and sisters to the forgotten and those on the margins. You told bishops not to be rich princes building flashy cathedrals or buying expensive artwork. Shortly after, you were seen being driven in a 1988 blue Ford Focus and waiting in line to board a bus with others.
Like Saint Francis, you embraced the man from Indonesia covered in a skin disease—with love. When children crossed the floor unscripted during papal audiences, you welcomed them with eyes of compassion and the tender words of a father’s love. We heard stories from afar— how at night as a bishop you would wear ordinary lay clothes and go into the streets to feed the homeless. At other times, you visited hospitals and nursing homes for the sick.
After your election, you broke tradition. Instead of washing the feet of cardinals and bishops inside Vatican walls on Holy Thursday, you stepped beyond comfort and security outside the walls— washing the feet of prisoners, including two women and a Muslim. You radically included refugees, LGBTQI+ people, the rejected, and victims of abuse, saying many times: “I am sorry.”
Returning from Brazil after World Youth Day, a reporter asked how we should approach LGBTQI+ issues. You responded, “Who am I to judge?” You opened discussions about women deacons encouraging women in leadership and began the Synodal process— where each person at the table was treated as equal, allowing the Spirit to blow where it wills.
You shared your Eucharistic table with everyone, like Jesus, who included tax collectors, sinners, Zealots, and even Judas, who would betray him. In breaking bread, you excluded no one. Our brokenness became the doorway to God’s mercy. In 2016, you declared a Year of Mercy for those seeking reconciliation and healing.
Like Saint Francis, rejected by his own father, you were criticized by some American bishops. But you, like Saint Francis, gathered the stones they threw. Instead of throwing them back, you held them in your hands—like the flowers that once revealed the image of Mary on a tortilla. You were the first pope to officially recognize Medjugorje. You create a sweet aroma.
In 2015, you wrote Laudato Si’—Praise be to you, my Lord, echoing Saint Francis, who gave reverence to God’s creation. Calling us to be stewards who cared for creation. You recognised the 2013 UN intergovernmental panel report On Climate Change Which stated that more than 97% of scientists recognised human-induced or human caused climate change. You raised concern about environmental degradation— the loss of biodiversity such as animals and plants, pollution, rising sea levels, stronger storms— and how the poor suffer the most from this environmental destruction. Yet some conservatives and big business questioned your authority. You called for an ecological conversion of heart— inviting us to step into bushlands, oceans, mountains, and lakes near our common homes. You urged us to live simpler lives: cold showers, thrift shopping, growing veggies in our gardens, and consuming less.
To you, evangelisation was not harsh words or strict doctrine, but the loving embrace of a father. Like Saint Francis who prayed, “Our Father who art in heaven,” you reminded us that everything ultimately belongs to God. You directed your heart to, “Make me a channel of your peace.” You called for an end to wars in Ukraine, Gaza, Burma or Myanmar , Sudan, and the Congo. “Where there is hatred, let me sow love.” The suffering of the world troubled you deeply. You linked justice with peace— travelling to distant lands, placing a prayer for peace in the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem.
You were inspired by love— not your own love, but God’s love. Goodbye, Pope Francis. You will always remain in our hearts. We will carry the hope you inspired and strive to live your message— as Saint Francis inspired: “Preach the Gospel, and if necessary, use words.” You would add - “With love”.
Journal and reflect on the following
What qualities of Pope Francis’ leadership challenge our current understanding of what it means to be a Christian today?
How can we personally live out Pope Francis’ call to “remember the poor” in our daily lives?
In what ways have you experienced or witnessed the Church becoming more inclusive under Pope Francis’ leadership?
How does Laudato Si’ call us to change our lifestyle, and what steps can we take toward an ecological conversion of heart?
What does it mean to you that evangelisation should be rooted in love and mercy rather than strict doctrine?
How can we open our hearts more fully to those who are rejected or forgotten by society, as Pope Francis consistently did?
In your own faith journey, how can you “preach the Gospel, and if necessary, use words”—as Saint Francis and Pope Francis modelled so powerfully?
Discuss
Song - Laudatio Si
Song - Shepherd of Light
Final Prayer
Loving God, We give thanks for the life and witness of Pope Francis, a humble servant who walked in the footsteps of Christ and Saint Francis of Assisi. Through his compassion, courage, and deep love for all creation, he taught us to reach out to the margins, to speak truth with tenderness, and to live simply so others may simply live. As we remember his prophetic voice for peace, justice, and mercy, help us to carry his spirit forward. May we open the doors of our hearts to the poor, the broken, the excluded, and to You. Fill us with the same bold tenderness, so that we too may be channels of Your peace, sowers of love, and witnesses to hope in our world. Amen.
Like Saint Francis, you embraced the man from Indonesia
Returning from Brazil after World Youth Day,
In 2015, you wrote Laudato Si’—Praise be to you, my Lord,
You linked justice with peace—
(Audio Available)
