When Jorge Mario Bergoglio stepped out onto the balcony of St. Peter’s Basilica and introduced himself to the world as Pope Francis, my heart was filled with joy. As a Franciscan Friar of the Atonement, I knew at that moment that the Holy Spirit had breathed something special into the life of the Catholic Church.
No Pope before him had ever taken the name Francis. Yet here was a humble Jesuit from Argentina, who, in an important moment, chose the name of the founder of our order – our beloved St. Francis of Assisi. In doing so, he embodied the very spirit of St. Francis, setting aside the traditional grandeur of the papacy in favor of humility, simplicity and a heart turned toward the poor.
I remember hearing the story of how, upon his election, Cardinal Hummes embraced him and said, “Don’t forget the poor.” Pope Francis later said, “That’s when the name came into my heart.” To a Franciscan, that is no small thing. That is divine providence. That is God’s grace in action.
For us, St. Francis was the one who saw Christ in the leper. St. Francis kissed the wounds of the forgotten, and rebuilt the Church not through power, but through poverty, humility and love. Pope Francis did the same. To him, no one was a leper. No one was untouchable. Whether you were a disenfranchised migrant, a prisoner behind bars, a child in a war zone, or someone simply struggling to find your way, he saw you. And he embraced you.
Many of our Friars, in ministry both here at Graymoor and around the world, had the honor of meeting Pope Francis over the years. In every encounter, what struck them was not just his holiness, but his humanity. He extended God’s blessing with gentleness and sincerity. He listened. He smiled. He radiated the joy of the Gospel.
Pope Francis reminded us that mercy is not just a concept – it’s a person. It’s Jesus Christ. And the Holy Father brought that mercy to life in thousands of small, unsung ways. He lived simply, rode the bus with the common people and chose to live in a modest guesthouse instead of the Apostolic Palace. He walked the talk.
As a Franciscan, it was deeply moving to see the spirit of Assisi alive in him. Not just in the name he chose, but in the life he lived: a life of bridge-building, of peacemaking, of seeing the image of God in everyone. In a world that often divides, he chose to heal. In a Church that sometimes forgets the poor, he chose to remember.
Now, as we commend Pope Francis to the loving arms of the Father, I thank God for the gift he was to the Church, to the world, and especially to us Franciscans. He always reminded us of who we are and what we are called to be: a Church that embraces the outcast, not a Church that casts out people.
May he rest in the peace of Christ, whom he served so well and so faithfully. And may we honor his memory by living with the same courage, compassion and humility he showed throughout his pontificate.
At the same time, we pray that the Holy Spirit may guide our Cardinals with wisdom and discernment in choosing a new shepherd after God’s own heart.