VATICAN CITY — The world woke up to a heavy heart on April 21 as Pope Francis, a spiritual father to millions and the first Latin American leader of the Catholic Church, passed away peacefully at 88. A man of deep faith, infectious humility, and relentless compassion, he leaves behind a legacy that reshaped not just the Vatican—but the way we see each other.
Cardinal Kevin Farrell, the Vatican’s camerlengo, shared the tender words:
“At 7:35am this morning, the Bishop of Rome, Francis, returned to the home of the Father. His entire life was dedicated to the service of the Lord and of his Church.”
From the very moment he stepped onto that rainy Vatican balcony in 2013 and said simply, “Buonasera,” Jorge Mario Bergoglio—Francis to the world—set the tone for a different kind of papacy: approachable, vulnerable, real. He wasn’t interested in power or grandeur. He was interested in people. Especially the poor, the hurting, the forgotten.
He swapped the palace for a modest guesthouse, the red papal shoes for his old orthotic ones. When asked about gay priests, he simply responded: “Who am I to judge?” That phrase echoed around the globe, as did his tireless calls to care for the earth, embrace the marginalized, and show mercy above all else.
Even as health challenges mounted—bouts of bronchitis, surgeries, and walking with a cane—Francis remained a tireless traveler, a comforter in crises. He visited the sick, washed prisoners’ feet, kissed the scarred and broken, and reminded us all that “the thing the Church needs most today is the ability to heal wounds.”
He wasn’t perfect. He stumbled, especially in dealing with abuse within the Church. But he apologized with sincerity, invited victims to the Vatican, and worked to bring justice where others had failed.
Pope Francis didn’t just lead a Church; he walked with the people. His final years were not about doctrine but dignity—of the poor, the refugees, women, the LGBTQ+ community, and anyone left on the margins. His love for “todos, todos, todos” (everyone, everyone, everyone) wasn’t a slogan. It was how he lived.
He inspired some, challenged others, and was misunderstood by many. But for countless people, Catholic or not, he was the face of a kinder, gentler faith—one that didn’t demand perfection but offered grace.
As the bells toll in Rome and candles flicker in cathedrals around the world, people aren’t just mourning a pope. They’re remembering a man who truly believed we could all do better—by each other, and by the planet.
Rest in peace, Pope Francis. Your light won’t be forgotten.
