By 
WHEN one thinks of Pope Francis, one of the first words that comes to mind is ‘humility’. I was in Rome in March 2013 when Jorge Mario Bergoglio was elected taking the name Pope Francis. When he appeared on the balcony dressed in the iconic papal white, he greeted those present with a simple and warm buonasera – good evening!
I thought about that memory when I watched him on that same balcony on Easter Sunday as he seemed to struggle for breath to deliver his traditional urbi et orbi. But he was there, the weight of his 88 years on the planet and 12 year papacy evident to all.
It is fitting, therefore, that the Pope died peacefully just hours after touring St Peter’s Square in the Popemobile to the delight of the many pilgrims and visitors who had travelled to the Vatican for Easter ceremonies.
Fitting, too, that his final message that Easter Sunday – read by a papal aide due to Francis’ illness – was a tour de force of the themes of his papacy: “God created us for life and wants the human family to rise again! In his eyes, every life is precious! The life of a child in the mother’s womb, as well as the lives of the elderly and the sick, who in more and more countries are looked upon as people to be discarded”.
It was something he spoke about often, what he described as our ‘throwaway culture’ where unregulated capitalism has left everyone disposable.
He then turned his attention to our troubled world with heartfelt please for peace in the Holy Land, in Sudan, in Ukraine.
“Christ, my hope, has risen,” Pope Francis announced, calling on the faithful to turn their gaze to the empty tomb. He spoke of the resurrection not as an abstract idea but as a living force — one that challenges, heals, and empowers.
It was a fitting end to a papacy that had sought to inspire and challenge in equal measure. Pope Francis, coming from a vibrant mission-driven Church in Latin America, sought to re-present the ancient faith to a western once-Christian culture that had become jaded and tired of institutions, including the Church.
He sought to remind all of us of the central Christian truth that God loves each and every person and has a plan for their life. He sawmercy as a powerful antidote in a world where virtually everything is permitted, but nothing is forgiven.
When Francis was released from hospital, only narrowly surviving double pneumonia, doctors had ordered two months of strict convalescence. The Argentine Pontiff has other plans. He was quickly being wheeled through St Peter’s Basilica greeting pilgrims. It wasn’t that he rejected the advice, it was more that he valued the need to be with people, and lead people and inspire them. As a sick old man, he had complete trust in God and the belief that it is the world to come that matters more.
Much will be written about his legacy. He was a Pope of firsts: the first Jesuit Pope, the first Pope from the Americas and the first Pope from the southern hemisphere. In his humble style and manner Francis was perhaps best placed to speak to a western world that had grown increasingly estranged from its Christian roots. His eschewing of elaborate vestments and the trappings of the papal palace meant that people took talk of simplicity ace sustainability seriously.
You can’t please everyone as Pope, John Paul II didn’t, Benedict XVI certainly didn’t, and Francis didn’t either.
But the consultation also caused dismay. Liberal Catholics delighted to be asked their opinion on the ordination of women, found the door slammed in their face when Francis later dismissed the possibility of female priests. Conservatives, who long for the certainty offered by Benedict XVI, have criticised him for causing confusion by giving the impression that he is open to changing core doctrines to make them more palatable to the lapsed.
Above all, it will be Francis’ powerful love for the poor and the powerless that will be remembered when the history of this papacy comes to be written. Almost as soon as he was elected Pope, he travelled to the tiny Italian island of Lampadusa – whose coastline has become a cemetery for migrants whose boats capsized fleeing war and famine.
He went to Rome’s notorious Rebbibia prison where he washed the feet of inmates, who were moved to tears by the simple gesture.
I visited Francis’ native Buenos Aires last year. In the posh suburbs, people had little to say about him – but when I visited the slums, almost everyone had a story about an act of kindness from ‘Padre Jorge’ They longed for him to pay a visit back to his homeland, something he never achieved.
Michael Kelly from Strathroy is Director of Public Affairs with the papal charity Aid to the Church in Need, Ireland, an expert on Vatican affairs and has covered papal transitions in 2005 and 2013.
