Francis

In 2022, Pope Francis washed the feet of prisoners on Holy Thursday, as he did in prior years.

Jorge Mario Bergoglio won me over when he chose the name “Francis”-the first Pope to do so.

Francis was a breath of fresh air right from the start with his actions speaking louder than his words. He traded in the fancy red shoes and frills of the position for simplicity and humility. He washed the feet of the forgotten on Holy Thursday while the privileged wondered what had changed. He invited us to choose mercy and love over law and order, causing a necessary storm for religious leaders and believers who more resembled the pharisees than the Master of 2000 years ago. He held up the mirror to corruption, inequality, and injustice and like the Jesus he faithfully followed, criticism was never far behind.

I woke up last Tuesday morning with a feeling of deep sadness. You know the one, often accompanied by the death of a loved one. I wondered why I felt this way until it dawned upon me that the Holy Father transitioned home the day before. It revealed to me how much he meant to my own spiritual growth and hope for the world.

The absence was palpable, like it was on Holy Saturday. In one final lesson, going home on Easter Monday as one more gift of hope.

The scuffed shoes of Francis from his coffin last week.

I never actually met Pope Francis, although I caught a glimpse of him in 2012 from his very distant window in the Vatican, and again this past November during Mass in St. Peter’s when we were separated by several hundred people and yards.

On both occasions, it reminded me of the old clips of the Beatles when they came to New York City and filled Shea Stadium. It also brought back to mind, more appropriately, the stories of Jesus and how as news spread of his miracles and teachings, people wanted to be as close as possible, grateful to even touch the thread of his garment.

I pondered then, as I did as a college senior before the remains of St. Francis of Assisi in 2004, the impact of a life of holiness. Simple really, it is a legacy rooted in the gospel message of unconditional love. Throughout the generations, this love radiates, and it continues to draw us closer to the truth that is God, that is love.

Somehow, by God’s grace I imagine, this love continues to call us into something deeper and greater. It is not a call for a sacred few but for all.

Francis, as Pope, had an opportunity, from a relatively unknown priest and cardinal to the world stage, to remind us of the way of Jesus.  He sure took it, didn’t he?

He resisted the temptations of the EGO, power, and privilege to dedicate his ministry to calling all of us to something deeper. From a spiritual appreciation and relationship with our earth and all God’s creation, to the inclusivity of marginalized communities, to his never-ending mercy, the Holy Father reminded us of a different way, like his and our Savior did so many years ago.

And if there was something he said or did that didn’t sit too well with you, maybe you can honor his life and death by asking why. Why did/does these words or actions bother you?

On the other side of the coin, if a memory continues to inspire and bring you hope, honor his life by replicating this action or words in your daily interactions with self, stranger, and neighbor.

Perhaps the greatest way to honor the life and papacy of Francis is to find your own path of unconditional love. Might you reset and re-imagine how your unconditional love can inspire others to do the same.

Can you take seriously the call to love and serve those experiencing all forms of poverty, and can you be caretaker of a planet that reveals God’s inherent love?

Might you turn again to Mary as Francis so often did, seeking her courage to say “yes” to what God calls you to be and do, a call that silently nudges you from the hidden depth of our heart.

In 2020, Pope Francis called you to dream in his book, Let us Dream, to transform the world. So few of us listened and acted.

He invited you, and us, now in death, to finally get it right. Maybe, with his intercession, among so many others who now welcome him home, we can bring this dream of love to reality.