Editor’s note: Following the death of Pope Francis on April 21, 2025, the editors of Where Peter Is received many tributes to his life and reflections on his influence from past and current contributors, as well as podcast guests and friends of the site from all over the world. We will publish a few of these reflections every day leading up to the conclave. —ML
An Easter Pope for An Easter People
By Andrew Likoudis
“Christ’s resurrection is not an event of the past; it contains a vital power which has permeated this world. Where all seems to be dead, signs of the resurrection suddenly spring up.” — Pope Francis, “Evangelii Gaudium,” 276
“Thanks to Christ – crucified and risen from the dead – hope does not disappoint! Spes non confundit! (cf. Rom 5:5) … All those who put their hope in God place their feeble hands in his strong and mighty hand; they let themselves be raised up and set out on a journey. Together with the risen Jesus, they become pilgrims of hope, witnesses of the victory of love and of the disarmed power of Life. Christ is risen! These words capture the whole meaning of our existence, for we were not made for death but for life. Easter is the celebration of life!” — Pope Francis, Easter Sunday homily, April 20, 2025
Pope Francis, born Jorge Mario Bergoglio, radiated the deep joy of one who truly believed in the Resurrection. His smile, simplicity, and sense of humor made him not only a beloved spiritual father but also a reflection of the risen Christ’s tenderness and mercy.
From his humble beginnings in Buenos Aires to his ascendency to the Chair of St. Peter, he embodied what he often preached: Christian joy is not merely naive optimism, but the fruit of a heart grounded in the love of the living God – a Father who calls us his children. Even amid a world rife with suffering, he dared to rejoice.
His first apostolic exhortation, “Evangelii Gaudium” (“The Joy of the Gospel”), set the tone for his pontificate. “The joy of the Gospel fills the hearts and lives of all who encounter Jesus,” he wrote. “With Christ, joy is constantly born anew” (EG, 1). This was the song of his life. He followed it with “Amoris Laetitia” (“The Joy of Love”) and “Gaudete et Exsultate” (“Rejoice and Be Glad”), marking his papacy with a consistent call to holiness that was neither rigid nor dour.
He rejected the lifeless severity of whom St. Teresa of Ávila once called “sour-faced saints,” offering instead a vision of sanctity radiant with mercy and the promise of the Resurrection.
Francis was all about that resurrection life. He reminded us that faith is not sterile doctrine but a living relationship with Jesus, who is risen and who walks with us. He once noted, “There are Christians whose lives seem like Lent without Easter.” If we Christians truly believe in the Resurrection, why do we so often live like it’s still Good Friday?
His humor, humility and frequent call to smile were not quirks of personality, but deeply theological gestures – outward signs of a heart alive with Easter. Like St. Mother Teresa of Kolkata before him, he understood that a smile is a beginning of love, a small resurrection in the face of despair, and a quiet defiance against the darkness.
And how fitting – even poetic – that Pope Francis should pass into eternity on Easter Monday. Notably, he is not the first modern pope to die during Eastertide. Just as one of his predecessors, St. Pope John Paul II, was called home on Divine Mercy Sunday, the great feast he gave to the Church, Pope Francis departed quietly at the very dawn of the Easter Octave. His passing – at the beginning of the church’s most joyful week – underscores his lifelong witness to resurrection hope. It was as if, in characteristic humility, he waited until the day after Easter to ensure the Church’s gaze remained fixed on the Risen Christ.
We are now in a Jubilee Year of Hope, and how fitting is God’s providence that Francis would conclude his earthly pilgrimage at such a moment. In this sacred time of “opening the doors of mercy,” we entrust him with confidence to the threshold of that final door – the one that opens into the Father’s house.
The sorrow we feel today is real, but not final. Pope St. John Paul II once exclaimed, “We are an Easter people, and Alleluia is our song!” – a truth that Pope Francis wholeheartedly embraced. As Jesus told his disciples, “You will grieve, but your grief will turn to joy. … I will see you again and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take that joy from you” (Jn 16:20, 22). Our pope believed those words – and lived them until the end of his earthly pilgrimage.
Let us remember him not in black vestments but in Easter white – during this octave of radiant joy – as a man of the Resurrection: a smiling pastor who taught us to laugh, to love and to live the Gospel with gladness.
He has run the race. He has kept the faith (Cf. 2 Tim 4:7). And now, in the hope of the Resurrection, Alleluia is truly his song – and still ours.
Thank you, Papa Francesco. May the joy you gave return to you a hundredfold.
This column was first published on the Catholic Review’s website, CatholicReview.com under the title Pope Francis is a Reflection of Christ’s Tenderness, Mercy.
Humble Papa Francis Who Hugged the Whole World
By Rachel Dobbs
On March 13, 2013, I was at work but barely working since I intently listened to any news that white smoke was seen above the Sistine Chapel. I was at a crossroads in my life since I found myself drifting more and more away from traditionalism, although not entirely. My belief system had shown cracks to some degree, especially since we all had endured a nuclear explosion, one that no one saw coming when Pope Benedict XVI announced his resignation.
Then wisps of white smoke appeared and Rome’s bells peeled their joyful ring throughout all the seven hills. Indeed, we had a pope. When Cardinal Jean-Louis Tauran appeared on the loggia and announced his name, I didn’t recognize it. I had no idea who this pope was from Argentina. All I knew was that he came out without the traditional mozzetta that the trads were angry about on certain websites. Then he spoke.
He exhibited such humility in asking for prayers as he gave us his first blessing. I was struck by his humility. I wasn’t sure, at the time, if we were in good hands yet. All I knew was that this humble pope had asked that I pray for him and that he eschewed the traditional papal trappings that we had become accustomed to under Pope Benedict XVI.
Then the flood gates opened out of hell’s mouth. I was appalled in those first few weeks as I witnessed the vile contempt in the circles I ran in. It angered me but it also galvanized my position and I warmed up to listening to Pope Francis and what he had to say.
The Holy Father challenged me to love more. To serve more. To throw away fear, especially to open up and go to the peripheries. His wisdom and positions, especially on Climate Change and how to give the Catholic answer to environmental issues is invaluable in Laudato Si. For too many years, I struggled with trying to articulate what the Catholic position on Climate Change and other very serious environmental concerns are, especially in a Catholic cultural environment that downplays it because of the ties, however thin they are, to the pro-choice movement.
Yet, Pope Francis taught me how to approach it and that helped solidify my position. In addition to helping me in my position on Climate Change, he challenged myself and us all on being a champion on the poor and marginalized. Nothing said that more than in 2019 when he held the Synod for Indigenous peoples in the Amazon so that we as a Church can find ways to give them spiritual care.
He invited them to leave their villages and fly so far across the ocean to Rome, so far away from home because he cared about not only getting more spiritual care but also their ongoing fights with the corporations (that had turned into small wars) and their fight against the government, especially in Brazil).
Sadly, not everyone saw nor were they willing to see it that way and chose to insult and demean them, doing the exact opposite of what Pope Francis has challenged all of us to do.
Pope Francis never let the extremely hostile abuse get to him or if it did, he didn’t show it. Instead, he always found ways to point to Our Lord or to the people around us, especially the poor and marginalized.
With all this in mind, the one action that will always, to me, characterize Papa Francis is what he did in 2020. I was in lockdown and my mental health had taken a big hit. We were dealing with a new type of coronavirus and there were so many bodies piling up. It frightened me. The streets were silent and it seemed as if the world had screeched to a halt and there was Papa Francis, The Blessed Sacrament raised high in the rainy Roman streets, giving a blessing to the entire world and telling us all that it will be ok and that Our Lord was with us and in watching that, I felt the love coming off of my computer screen. I felt a consoling hug, that someone cared enough to say it will be ok. Someone who cared. Someone who didn’t berate me nor abuse me nor tell me to inject bleach or take horse medicine.
No, it was someone who cared enough to hug the whole world, there in St. Peter’s square. From that point on, I could breathe a little easier. This to me was Pope Francis in essence, a man who loved us all so much and wanted to console us all in a scary, horrific time, that he wanted to do something special and important, something to let us know that we weren’t alone.
To me, this was a man who cared. Who truly had a heart of love, despite his faults that I won’t go into here. Despite those issues I had disagreement with, to me, he will always be my papa, the pope who cared so much that he showed Our Lord’s love and told us it was going to be ok and gave us a blessing during one of our darkest hours.
In his last act, He blessed us all again at Easter, to remind us of Our Lord’s love, of resurrection and hope and a strong rebuke to the evil forces threatening our world who think it’s fine to throw away so many people based entirely on their immigration status or what tattoo they wear or papers or lack thereof.
May we all learn from his example and love those on the periphery and be conduits of Christ’s love for all. Rest in Peace Papa Francis. The world already misses you and it’s a colder place already and I miss you too. Please pray for us all.
Editor’s note: Following the death of Pope Francis on April 21, 2025, the editors of Where Peter Is received many tributes to his life and reflections on his influence from past and current contributors, as well as podcast guests and friends of the site from all over the world. We will publish a few of these reflections every day leading up to the conclave. —ML
Image: “Korea_Pope_Francis_Gwanghwamun_Beatifica” (CC BY-SA 2.0) by KOREA.NET – Official page of the Republic of Korea
Andrew Likoudis is a student of business and entrepreneurship at Towson University, an associate member of the Society for Catholic Liturgy, and the editor of several books on the papacy and Catholic ecclesiology. He runs a column titled Nature & Grace at Patheos.com.
Rachel Dobbs is a Catholic convert and a happily married woman with two black cats living in Jacksonville, Florida. She works as a Sr. Library services associate at the University of North Florida where she received her Bachelor's and Master's in history. In addition, she's a novice Benedictine oblate. Her interests include history, reading, knitting, fantasy, and RPGs.
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