I remember the day when Pope Francis was elected. I was a freshman in high school, and it was near the end of the day. I was blessed to go to a Catholic school, so we were all called into the auditorium with great excitement as we waited for the newly elected Francis to emerge on the balcony over St Peter’s. But much more than the day of his election, I will always remember the weeks and months that followed his election. I experienced great jubilation in the school community that day, but that was nothing compared to the sense of jubilation the whole world felt in the weeks following his election. In that time we saw something truly special: our current culture, which is at this point openly antagonistic toward the Catholic Church in many ways fell in love with the vicar of Christ. His joyful and humble witness immediately captivated the minds and moved hearts. I heard so many times people say things like “I’m not Catholic but I sure love this pope” or even “I’m not religious but I love how Christ-like Pope Francis is”. Time and time again I’ve heard testimony from people outside the Church praise and extoll pope Francis, and this is something to marvel at. I think this is something we Catholics can take for granted, but this is worth appreciating: The chief shepherd of the Catholic church was beloved to those outside the church. In this way, Francis imaged so excellently the appeal and attraction of love. This is in my opinion the aspect of Francis most alike to Our Lord. I think of all the unlikely characters we meet in the gospel simply because they were drawn to the mysterious and amazing figure of Christ. Francis exhibited a similar pull that drew many outsiders to the love and mercy of the Church.
I was one such “outsider” that he drew in. At the time of his election, I was a highschooler who was just first engaging with my faith in a serious way, first asking myself as a young adult what I believed. The beautiful witness of my catholic high school was definitely intriguing me and attracting me, but I had yet to truly “dive in”, so to speak. I was tepid as I felt out of place amidst others around me that were deeply living their faith. Then Pope Francis emerged upon the scene, and in him I saw a warm, smiling, loving pastor beckoning me into the Church. Pope Francis made me feel loved and welcome, like I belonged. It was Francis’ warm invitation that helped me dive “all in” into my Catholic faith. Soon after this jumping head-first did I begin consider a vocation…
You can’t mention Francis without mentioning mercy. Francis identified his Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii Gaudium as the key document of his papacy. In this document which reveals so much of who Pope Francis was, I am always so struck by the opening lines. He writes:
I invite all Christians, everywhere, at this very moment, to a renewed personal encounter with Jesus Christ. I ask all of you, unfailingly to do this each day… Now is the time to say to Jesus: “Lord, I have let myself be deceived; in a thousand ways I have shunned your love, yet here I am once more, to renew my covenant with you. I need you. Save me once again, Lord, take me once more into your redeeming embrace.”
As a man who has been called to quite a lofty mission, I find myself frequently falling short of the love and sacrifice that true conversion demands of me. At times in my seminary journey I have allowed this discouragement to overwhelm me. This invitation by the Holy Father, so clearly inspired by his own honest experience, has been one of the ways Jesus has saved me. This gentle and merciful encouragement from the pope himself is the consolation that I’ve needed so many times to persevere in my vocation.
This also establishes an important link between two of Francis’ signature emphases: His joy and his mercy. Not just a link, but here Francis gives us the secret to his joy, the experience of God’s mercy. Even his pontifical motto spoke to this, “by having mercy and by choosing, he says ‘follow me’.” The motto is from a homily on the call of St Matthew. Francis sometimes spoke about this intense experience of mercy being the foundation of his call and discernment. Francis showed us that joy is the best witness to mercy. In a world where so many live in crippling guilt and condemnation, we really ought to be abundantly joyful having received such liberating mercy from God.
Francis, as some have remarked, was the master of the beautiful gesture. Whether it was stopping his pope mobile to kiss a baby, washing the feet of prisoners, or just his tendency to make a joke and share his smile with the world, many of us have a favorite “Francis moment.” Perhaps my favorite moment of Francis’ reign was shortly after the war in Ukraine began. I remember the wave of articles and political commentary at the time, with many pundits all too eager to flaunt their sophistication and give their opinion on this complex geopolitical situation.
I then started following Francis closely to get his “take” on the situation. Surely as head of a global body he’d bring a highly informed nuanced perspective into the conversation. What I witnessed was something unexpected and was one of my favorite Francis moments. Francis, the supreme pontiff of the Catholic Church and successor of Peter, speaking in a public forum about the conflict, simply began to cry. What we saw there was how a heart truly configured to Christ reacts to the sufferings of the world. What we saw was the appropriate response to war.
This was actually a demonstration of one of Francis’ continued emphases, a fight against what he called “globalized indifference”. All too often we are presented with staggering statistics about the world’s poor and disenfranchised. Francis taught that many of our hearts have grown hardened to such realities, and this must be remedied. A champion of the poor and marginalized though he was, Francis’ emphasis here was not primarily ideas to solve the problem nor chastising of political leaders. Francis taught that before we get into all of that, we as Christians must first care. We must love. We must be moved by love. We must allow ourselves to be moved by love. Before we point fingers at who is to blame, before we shrug our shoulders and keep scrolling to the next item on our feed, we must be attentive to the person in front of us. We must see the victim of war as brother. We must pause and allow our heart to be moved at the plight of our brother. Simply put, our hearts must ache. When Francis preached against globalized indifference, I believe he was lamenting a lack of heartache. Here we see Francis’ Ignatian spirituality on display. To experience this heartache of love requires a sensitivity to and recollection of our inner stirrings, what we think and feel in our heart. In this intentional attention to these movements of our heart, we can be receptive to the movement of the Holy Spirit.
When being asked to comment on the war, Francis, before answering, made this pause and was present to the movements of his heart. Francis’ heart, so close and united to the hearts of his flock, was moved by strong emotions of sadness. In beginning to cry, he was allowing himself to respond “from the heart”. By his tears, Francis did deliver a strong and powerful message about the war. Through his tears, he loudly and boldly proclaimed “these are our brothers and sisters and they are dying, and that is not ok.” Delivered in the manner it was, this message landed not so much on my ears but on my heart. In this beautiful moment, Francis’ heart spoke to my heart. That’s actually one of my favorite definitions of prayer: “when heart speaks to heart”.
As I make these reflections, I think of my own life and how I want to live differently. Francis offers ample conviction here. As a future priest, Francis made it known loud and clear that the poor and marginalized must be my priority. I think: How have parish budgets changed since Francis’ election? Is there more there for the poor? Then I look at myself, at my own wallet and ask: How much of this goes to the poor and how much goes to my own needs? I then consider that infectious joy of his. I think to my experiences and I ask myself: Do I have a cause foy joy? What is my cause for joy? I look in the mirror and ask: Do I make it a priority to share that joy with others? How often do I smile? These can be good questions to ask yourself as we grieve and remember our beloved shepherd. I remember when he was elected how he asked the faithful to pray for him. Now, as he enters eternal life, let us not forget this sacred duty of ours and let us pray for the happy repose of his soul. Let us with grateful hearts commend him to Our Father saying, Thank you, Francis, for everything.
