Francis I died a year ago today. In fond memory, I repost the item below, written for Easter 2025, but rededicated to him after his passing, to convey how he acted, as ‘Vicar of Christ.’

Bless you Jorge Bergoglio, for visibly striving to live the words of your namesake: It is in giving that we receive.

And Francis’ legacy keeps giving. His successor, Leo XIV, chose a name whose last bearer initiated the Church’s engagement with modernity; a choice suggesting progressive attitudes. Including addressing conflicts today’s economics often amplify, over the right of all God’s children to just shares in God’s world.

Francis pointedly lived simply, whereas Leo does so less modestly. He may feel that his sacred office legitimately requires some degree of ‘majesty,’ but may also do so in concession to Catholics who miss papal grandeur. He has returned to the Apostolic Palace, wears satin robes, authorizes certain rites, etc., presumably, at least partly, to assure those preoccupied with such issues, that he respects their sensibilities.

Preferring symbolic splendor to Gospel directives feels like a distinction between ‘religion’ and ‘faith.’ However, I sense Leo wears satin robes without forgetting there were none such at the stable in Bethlehem; nor Calvary. For he continues Francis’ true priorities, especially defending vulnerable people from predation. Or despair, as Francis is shown doing here.

Leo (Robert Prevost), born in 1955, is the first Pontiff to grow up with the Second Vatican Council’s changes to Catholic practice. He may have experienced those, as I did; as the Holy Spirit, moving through the world like a warm breeze at dawn. If so, he may have found that emollient sensation inspiration enough for a lifetime.

Religion cannot fully suffice for anyone who has savored faith, lighting the heart like benign flame that warms without burning. ‘Splendor’ is fitting for the marvel of Christ’s teachings, but no substitute for them. And the Holy Spirit cannot be captured by incense, brocade, nor anything less sublime than Herself.

However much some may crave Papal grandiosity, it remains superficial; worse, it defies humility. But far more corrosive is an apparent desire for formal affirmation that oneself/peers are saved, and all others damned. To me, such feels uncomfortably like sinful Pride.

‘Grandiosity’ distracts from the transforming glow that Jesus’ sacrifice of Self invites. Leo seemingly recognizes that, as a tremendous potential of humanity: That we can, if we will, exceed being mere organisms appeasing their appetites (whatever form those take). So I rejoice at his rhetoric, particularly meant for societies whose dominant principles tend to material Self-indulgence.

The Church long ago lost temporal authority. Her only power now is the only one that ever truly mattered: asserting Divine love for everyone, and the joy attainable by reciprocating it to each other.

Francis deployed that assertion against obsessive excess as the definition of a ‘successful’ life. Leo, persisting, may help inspire many who prefer rote ritual, with supporting dogma – or who have no faith at all – that the radiance of Christ’s way may surpass any shiny, enticing alternative.

A radiance parallel to ‘the Holy Spirit, moving through the world like a warm breeze at dawn.’

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ECHOES OF RESURRECTION:

This image shows Pope Francis kissing a man with a ghastly skin disease. I don’t know if this encounter was prearranged, or if Francis just spotted this poor soul in a crowd. Either way, he responded as Christ did with lepers, who were then shunned for fear of contagion, and prejudice that they were spiritually ‘unclean.’

Francis’ parallel act of surpassing kindness reverberates as an unaffected demonstration of what love beyond one’s Self may enable us to do. As here, when it likely required overcoming reflexive revulsion, and fear of possible contagion, to comfort a child of God who has likely often been ‘shunned.’

Our best deeds are often not our most rational ones, but a response like this to suffering is fitting for anyone who thinks it worthy to emulate Jesus. Especially for a successor to Saint Peter.

If this meeting was spontaneous, the Pope had to trust the man’s (presumable) assurance that his condition was not highly communicable. But in his role as ‘Vicar of Christ,’ he may have felt obliged – in fact, inspired – to follow Jesus’ example with outcasts. This is a breathtaking illustration of how care for the misery of a brother being – here, one who has surely endured much isolation – may enable us to set aside our sensibilities, and even our own safety.

Caring for another as oneself may be a joyful gift to give, simultaneously a denial of Self, and yet the Self’s finest affirmation. Here, we witness someone heavy laden, being reminded that he need not carry the cross he has been given to bear, alone.

In basic Christian belief, love enabled Jesus, the Christ, to physically transcend death itself. We ourselves cannot do that, but here we behold the transcending power of love in action. I cannot know if Jesus’ bodily Resurrection literally happened, but can have faith that its implications can change the World. That is a reality we may create, and by which we may be re-created; that is, made anew.

Francis could not miraculously cure this man, as Scripture asserts Jesus did on numerous occasions. But short of that, what might Jesus do in such a situation?

Surely, something like the gesture in this picture.