“Dear Pope Francis”—A Letter from the Crossroads
by Pedro Gabriel
Dear Pope Francis:
Today, Earth feels a little bit emptier.
Today, Heaven feels a little bit fuller.
This Lent, you have shown me what it means to carry your Cross.
This Easter, you have shown me that death is not the end.
This was you. You were always like a crossroads. Just like your Master, Our Lord Jesus Christ.
But now that you are gone, you left the crossroads behind.
So, here I stand, in the dark of the night, in this historical crossroads.
I look to one side, and I see the future.
I look to the other side, and I see the past.
Dear Pope Francis, the future is more alluring. The future entices my curiosity.
When glancing at the future, I see many potential popes lining up to succeed you.
Some of these popes have traits I desire.
Some of these popes have traits I fear.
They are all illusions.
They are nothing but my own shadow, projected along the winding path.
I have no need of a pope who’s but a shadow of me.
So, I look back to the past, and glance at my memory.
When Benedict resigned, I was looking forward for him to be elected again, in the shape of another person. A twin, a clone, a photocopy of him.
But the God of surprises brought me someone else. He brought me you, dear Pope Francis.
You were not what I expected.
You were not what I desired.
You were better, and I did not know.
You challenged me, and I let myself be challenged.
Now I glance even further back into the past.
I look back on Benedict’s election. At the time, I was but a nominal Catholic. I respected the Church, yet I did not live my faith.
Still, when John Paul II died, his parting moved me.
I remember crying, “I don’t want him to go!” I had not known any other pope.
But the God of surprises brought me someone else. He brought me Benedict.
He was not what I expected.
He was not what I desired.
He was better, and I did not know.
He challenged me, and I let myself be challenged.
Thanks to him, and to you, dear Pope Francis—through the challenges you both offered—I discovered this treasure of faith, this pearl of great price.
I developed, just like doctrine does.
I’m still the same as before.
And yet I’m completely new.
Now I’m ready to look back into the future. I see that the night is fading away. A new Easter morning is dawning.
The light comes and dissipates the shadows of myself, spread along the path.
The light comes and also dissipates the mist shrouding the future. But slowly. Just enough to let me take one step at a time.
And so, I walk, one step at a time, one minute at a time, one day at a time.
Dear Pope Francis, I now walk.
For the first time in many years, I walk without you.
Yet, you are still journeying together with me.
I sense it, though I see it not.
I leave you behind, and you go ahead, preparing the way.
A part of me stays behind.
Another part of me is now being reforged.
That’s the reason why today, my soul feels a little bit emptier.
And why today, my soul feels a little bit fuller.
The mark of greatness
by Gary Campbell
Pope Francis meant so many different things to us all. And that marked the greatness of the man. Simply by being who he was, he spoke to all humanity. I revered his simplicity, his ability to strip every issue to its core; his capacity for laying aside symbols and revealing the gospel in its unembellished majesty. As a traditionalist priest (SSPX) I had often made the mistake of taking the symbols of faith for the faith. No, said Francis. See past the cheap glory of embroidered cloth and guilt metal to the real splendor beneath. That first appearance of Francis on the balcony of St Peter’s made such an impact. Dressed in plain white, he appeared as a pastor. It may be that the next pope will yet show himself in a red mozzetta and gold pectoral cross, and that would be fine. Just so long as he recalled the example of his predecessor, the meaning of the symbols he bore, and ministered as if he were in sackcloth. Would that we would all so serve each other.
When Francis was elected I had been out of the traditionalist cult for 14 years. I had had a lot of unlearning to do. And still did. And still do. My new eyes saw practices, ceremonies and doctrinal formulations intended to protect the gospel rather than proclaim it. His Holiness showed us that cages do not preserve; they imprison. At a time when I, and thousands, felt excluded, Francis removed the bars. Goodbye, dear father and brother. Thank you.
Fly to God, and take our hearts with you.
Image: “Pro Eligendo Pontiface Mass,” Vatican 2013, (CC BY-NC-ND 2.0) by JeffyBruno
Pedro Gabriel, MD, is a Catholic layman and physician, born and residing in Portugal. He is a medical oncologist, currently employed in a Portuguese public hospital. A published writer of Catholic novels with a Tolkienite flavor, he is also a parish reader and a former catechist. He seeks to better understand the relationship of God and Man by putting the lens on the frailty of the human condition, be it physical and spiritual. He also wishes to provide a fresh perspective of current Church and World affairs from the point of view of a small western European country, highly secularized but also highly Catholic by tradition.
Gary Campbell is a freelance writer living in Australia, writing history and educational literature. He has also worked as a schoolteacher. Gary was a member of the Society of St. Pius X (SSPX) for 12 years, including as an ordained priest for five years. He was reconciled to Rome in 1999 and laicized.
Popular Posts