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
“Franciscus” — A Tribute
By Fr. Satish Joseph
Pencil Sketch by Terri Melia Hamlin.
It feels like the end of an era. Easter Monday, April 21, 2025, Pope Francis went to his eternal home. But in the thirteen years of his papacy, he has left a mark on the Catholic Church and the world in a way that only a few other Popes have done. Ironically, no other Pope in recent times has been so loved and so disliked at the same time. To those who loved him he was a more than the Pope. He was a prophet, a model of gospel fidelity, and an example of Christ-like compassion, mercy, humility, and goodness. He was the one who took on the most powerful of the world in championing the cause of migrants, refugees, the poor, women, children, those in prison, planet earth, and even comedians. To those who disliked him, he personified the nemesis of quintessential Catholicism. But they are not my concern today.
In general, I am an admirer of people but not a hero-worshipper. I never go lengths to meet famous people or seek their graces. The only person I would do that for is Jesus Christ. The most famous person I have met is Jim Gaffigan, but that was because he came to Dayton. I wanted to meet Pope Francis, but it was only because I wanted to make my confession with him. I wrote to him but did not get a reply back. I am not saddened by it. It was just not meant to be. But unlike other celebrities, my regard for him is boundless. I admired John Paul II, I respected Benedict XVI, but I loved Pope Francis. I honored him, I adored him, I revered him.
Thirteen years ago, I was a discouraged priest. My seminary formation in India was deeply embedded in Vatican II theology. Five years later, I left for France and then came to the United States. Surprisingly, I found my seminary training, my pastoral ministry, and even my priesthood questioned and even derogated. What do Indians know about Catholicism? This, even though Christianity reached India a good 1400 years before it reached the New World! There is a blatant discrimination in much of the institutional American Catholicism. For some American Catholics, unless it is White European Catholicism it is not authentic. There is a reason only a few former slaves embraced Catholicism in the United States after the Civil War. There is a reason why Pre-Vatican II Catholicism is rather popular in the United States. Vatican II’s legitimization of local languages, cultures, and practices of a universal and diverse Church is unwelcomed by the critics of Vatican II. They don’t understand that unity is qualitatively different from uniformity. This was a cultural shock for me in my initial years in the United States. My discouragement was exacerbated by the child sexual abuse crisis.
It was at this critical juncture, that on March 13, 2013, Jorge Mario Bergoglio was elected the 266th Pope of the Roman Catholic Church. He was the first bouncer pope. He was the first non-European Pope. He was the first Latin-American Pope. He was the first Jesuit Pope. He was the first Pope to take the name Francis. He was the first Pope who as his very first gesture as Pope, bowed down before the people and sought their blessing. In a homily I preached that weekend, I had said that his name and his gesture signaled a papacy that would focus on reform, on humility, and on compassion. I was not wrong. Just fifteen days after he was elected, on Holy Thursday, he was washing the feet of young men and women, Christian and Muslim detainees at the Caso del Marmo youth detention center. Three months later, his first visit outside Rome was to Lampedusa, a tiny Island in the Mediterranean and a major entry point for migrants from Africa trying to reach mainland Europe. This Pope was making is priorities clear. Suddenly, my priesthood found the last straw I was looking for. Hope was around the corner.
As Pope Francis continued to travel and speak — especially in his appearances to journalists, giving inflight press conferences enroute to Rome over his 47 trips to 65 countries — I began to find the hope, the boldness, and the passion for which my priesthood was parched. In one such impromptu interview he said something that captured my imagination. He said, “I see clearly that the thing the Church needs most today is the ability to heal wounds and to warm the hearts of the faithful; it needs nearness, proximity. I see the Church as a field hospital after battle.”
I want to combine these words of Pope Francis’ words with the words of Cardinal Kevin Farrell, the Vatican spokesperson who announced his death to the world. He said, “His entire life was devoted to service to the Lord and His Church. He taught us to live the values of the Gospel with fidelity, courage and universal love, especially in favor of the poorest and most marginalized. With immense gratitude for his example as a true disciple of the Lord Jesus, we commend the soul of Pope Francis to the infinite merciful love of the One and Triune God.”
When the local media asked me about the legacy of Pope Francis, there are many things on which I could have focused. I could have spoken about his care of the environment — he wrote the two-part Laudato Si about it; about Synodality — an inclusive way for discernment in the Church; on Amoris Laetitia — his encyclical on marriage and the theological and pastoral shifts in them; his efforts towards financial reform in the Vatican; his work for the protection of children; on his reaching out to Muslim leaders; and his doctrinal development of the Church’s teaching on the death penalty. These were not my primary focus.
For me, the legacy of Pope Francis lies in the centrality he placed on the gospel of Jesus Christ. In his very first apostolic exhortation, Evangelii Gaudium, written just eight months into his papacy, he begins by saying, “I invite all Christians, everywhere, at this very moment, to a renewed personal encounter with Jesus Christ, or at least an openness to letting him encounter them; I ask all of you to do this unfailingly each day. No one should think that this invitation is not meant for him or her, since ‘no one is excluded from the joy brought by the Lord’” (EG, 3).
This one sentence says everything about the pastoral approach of Pope Francis — inviting every person to center their lives around Jesus Christ, but then also emphasizing that no one is excluded from the joy of the Lord. He became the model for both.
First, he centered his life and ministry on the life and ministry Jesus Christ. Just like Jesus moved about Palestine especially among the poor, the neglected, ostracized, and those relegated to the peripheries, Pope Francis moved about the globe becoming the champion of those on the peripheries. Just as Jesus did not focus on the elite, the rich, the powerful but the tax collectors, sinners, the prostitutes, the blind, the lame, the mute, the leper and the ill, Pope Francis’ focused on the poor, those in the slums, the prisoners, those on death row, the refugees, the migrants, the LGBTQ community, women in the Church, children, the victims of the environmental crisis, victims of war and violence, couples who were denied Communion, and even the indigenous people in the various continents. On one of the foreign visits, he took a dozen refugees who faced deportation from the Greek island of Lesbos back to Rome, offering them refuge in a rebuke to the EU’s policy of sending migrants and refugees back to Turkey. On the visit to the US, he celebrated a Mass at the border to draw attention to the plight of immigrants. His recent letter to the US Catholic bishops is a rebuke of US immigration policy that focuses on the villainization, dehumanization, and deportation of immigrants. Similarly, in his care for the victims of war, every evening at 7pm, he would call the Catholics in Gaza to give them hope amidst the hopelessness of the genocide.
As he focused on imitating Christ in his ministry to the most abandoned, Pope Francis was equally serious when he said, “no one is excluded from the joy of the Lord.” His encyclical Fratelli Tutti clearly emphasized this focus. It laid out his conviction of a global order built on fraternity and social friendship. It emphasized the importance of human dignity, compassion, and solidarity. It called for a shift away from individualism and towards a more inclusive and just society where everyone is seen as a brother or sister.
Nowhere is this need for inclusivity better expressed than in Fiducia Supplicans, the document that allowed Catholic priests to bless couples who are not married according to church teaching, including same-sex couples. For Pope Francis, no one must be denied God’s blessing. In similar vein, his teaching on death penalty to make sure that even the most isolated in society have a dignified end. Like Christ who said, “The Sabbath was made for man and not man for the Sabbath” (Mk 2:27), Pope Francis brought the human person center stage. Yes, doctrines and church teaching are important, but for Pope Francis, it was the human person, and the love, compassion, and mercy of Jesus Christ that was at the center of the Church’s pastoral life. I call is Pope Francis’s version of Christian Humanism.
Pope Francis’s Christ-centered ministry also led to Christ-like trenchant criticism of him. The contemporary Catholic equivalent of Jesus’ critics were quick to speak as they did about Jesus, “Look, he eats and drinks with immigrants, refugees, and LGBTQ folks!” But like Jesus, Pope Francis never repaid evil with evil. He simply went about doing good.
If Pope Francis’ life and ministry was modeled around Christ, so were his last days, his death, and his burial. As the Triduum came, Pope Francis had just become strong enough to be seen in public. But on Holy Thursday, he was in a Roman prison where he individually greeted each resident. At the end of the visit, he was seen blowing kisses to them in farewell. It reminded me of Jesus with the criminals before his death. He was present at the Easter service, but instead of some rest, wanted to be with the people. He ventured out for what would be his last public visit with the people. Like Jesus who carried his cross of suffering and moved among the people on the way to Calvary, Pope Francis, patient in his suffering, longed to be with the people. Easter Monday, Pope Francis passed away. This was the Pope who, in my words, defied the deathbed, to be with his people.
His will for his burial was a continuation of his simplicity. Unlike recent popes, he wished to be buried in a simply wooden coffin outside the Vatican in the Papal Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore. His coffin was not to be lifted up but to stay on the same level as the people. The last people to greet his coffin at the burial site included migrants, prisoners, transgender, and homeless people. And he willed that his tombstone should simply be marked, “Franciscus.”
So, where does the Church go from here? Where do we go from here? The Church will elect a new Pope. But no matter who is elected, Franciscus will be in the hearts of the people for a very long time. Even the institutional Church will not be able to shake off the papacy of Pope Francis. He brought the Gospel a little closer to the world and the helped the world become a little more accessible to the Church. More people have become Catholic in recent times because of Pope Francis than for any other reason. Just this Friday, I met with a young agnostic who wanted me to explain Catholicism to him. Surprisingly for me, his interest was evoked by just one piece of the writing of Pope Francis — Laudato Si.
Today, though, there is also a Catholic priest who is standing among you, and who owes his continuing priestly ministry to the inspiration and example given by a Pope whose tombstone will merely say, “Franciscus.”
I want to end with an ode to Franciscus
“A flame has gone out,
a spring has dried;
A flower has fallen,
a voice is silent.
Franciscus lives on,
in the heartbeat of millions.
We will shine his light,
we will quench the thirst.
We will spread the fragrance.
We will be his voice.”
If you would like to add your own reflection to this series, please send it via email by clicking on the “Article Submissions” tab above, with the subject line “Reflection.” The recommended length is 200-300 words. Longer submissions will be evaluated on a case-by-case basis and may be subject to editing. We may not be able to publish all submissions.
Image: Vatican Media
Fr. Satish Joseph was ordained in India in 1994 and incardinated into the archdiocese of Cincinnati in 2008. He has a Masters in Communication and Doctorate in Theology from the University of Dayton. He is presently Pastor at Immaculate Conception and St. Helen parishes in Dayton, OH. He is also the founder Ite Missa Est ministries (www.itemissaest.org) and uses social media extensively for evangelization. He is also the founder of MercyPets (www.mercypets.org) — a charitable fund that invites pet-owners to donate a percent of their pet expenses to alleviate child hunger. MercyPets is active in four countries since its founding in December 2017. Apart from serving at the two parishes, he facilitates retreats, seminars and parish missions.
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