Roman Catholics around the world were delighted when Pope Francis marked Easter Sunday by blessing thousands gathered in Vatican City’s St Peter’s Square and then went on a surprise tour of the piazza in his open-topped Popemobile.
Hopes rose that the 88-year-old pontiff had recovered from the double pneumonia that had left him close to death in hospital. Tragically, his appearance took on a very different significance yesterday (Monday), when the Vatican announced he had died hours later. With hindsight, it was remarkable that a frail pope completed what he wanted to do on such a symbolic day.
To the end, Pope Francis was true to the causes he made a hallmark of his papacy – notably, the plight of migrants. In his traditional Urbi et Orbi message on Sunday, read out on his behalf, he lamented the “contempt” that is “stirred up at times towards the vulnerable, the marginalised, and migrants”. It came a day after he had met JD Vance, the US vice-president and a Catholic, with whom he had previously disagreed publicly over the Trump administration’s policies on migration.
Another cause was climate change. He rightly made the link between the threat to the planet – “our common home” – and the large-scale migration it might cause, saying that the poor are “on the front line of environmental degradation” because they often subsist on agriculture, forestry, and fishing.
In his final message, Pope Francis condemned the “deplorable humanitarian situation” in Gaza. A strong advocate of Palestinian rights, he spoke regularly during the Hamas-Israel conflict with the pastor of the Holy Family (“Latin”) Church in the territory, where lay members sheltered both Muslims and Christians.
A breath of fresh air in the Catholic Church, Pope Francis spurned the trappings of power and undoubtedly had a human touch. The word “marginalised” ran through his public statements like the words inside a stick of rock. Those outside the Church gave him credit for championing the excluded, antagonising his internal conservative opponents in a very divided movement he was unable to heal.
One of his best-known interventions in 12 years as pontiff was his 2013 declaration that gay people should not be marginalised. “If a person is gay and seeks God and has good will, who am I to judge?” he said. However, it only went so far; he reaffirmed the Catholic Church’s position that homosexual acts were sinful, and criticised “lobbying by this orientation” (gay people). The blessing of same-sex couples took another 10 years, and gay marriage remains taboo.
Similarly, Pope Francis called for women to play a greater role in the Church, saying: “We cannot limit the role of women in the Church to altar girls or the president of a charity.” He did promote lay members to positions, but regrettably the door to the ordination of women remained closed.
His reputation as a liberal reformer did not translate into decisive action on tackling child sexual abuse. This is a prism through which many non-Catholics would view the Church – though, as was shown by the resignation of Justin Welby as Archbishop of Canterbury over his response to abuse allegations, the crisis is not confined to the Catholic Church. Pope Francis’s critics claimed he had failed to show strong enough leadership, and that clerics who should have been fired were protected.
His successor will now be chosen by up to 138 cardinals under the arcane, highly secretive process depicted in Conclave, the film based on Robert Harris’s book. The Argentinian Pope Francis, the first non-European pope in 1,300 years, appointed more cardinals from the “global South” he cared so much about. Perhaps the conclave will afford him a fitting legacy by choosing the first Black pope.
The Catholic Church should resist the temptation to do what the Church of England has done in the past: play pendulum politics by replacing a moderniser with a traditionalist, or vice versa. Pope Francis was a reformer frustrated by what could be called the “deep state” of conservative vested interests at the Vatican. Arguably, he upset both liberals, whose hopes for greater change were raised but dashed, and conservatives, who suspected he intended to go further than he admitted.
Unfortunately, his unfinished revolution ran out of time, but it should be completed by his successor. He should follow Pope Francis’s own guiding star: the Church must apply the gospel to today’s world.
