There has been and will continue to be much written and said about the legacy of Pope Francis. But, as I sit here in my office at the Sheil Catholic Center at Northwestern, still overcome with emotion at the loss of my spiritual father and our Pope, I think Pope Francis would want me to say it has never been about him.
It has always been about God, and reminding the world who God is for everyone.
Pope Francis constantly came back to the mantra throughout his pontificate that the style of God is closeness, compassion and tenderness. Throughout his ministry as the successor of St. Peter, Pope Francis witnessed these truths about God repeatedly through action and preaching.
They aren’t necessarily profoundly theological at all, but through these lenses Pope Francis rehumanized the Catholic Church and its relationship with a world in need of healing. Yes, he has written profound encyclicals and, in many ways, showed us a new way of living the papacy, but above all he has challenged the Church to reembrace our missionary identity.
For me, the moment he stepped out onto the loggia of St. Peter’s Basilica in 2013, bowed his head and asked the world for our blessing, I knew this would be different. And from the beginning, it has been different.
His choice to forgo the papal apartments for a simple suite at the Casa Santa Marta wasn’t just a gesture of humility, but a reminder to all of us that we are made for community, journeying together. His embrace of migrants around the world, lunches with the homeless, washing the feet of prisoners — each moment underscored a different kind of papal power, one that flows not from the power of office, but from closeness to “todos, todos, todos!”
The closeness which Pope Francis sought to have with people wasn’t about proximity, it was in understanding their lives, their struggles, their hurts — especially as it related to their relationship with the Church. Francis summoned the Church to walk alongside one another. He told pastors to be “shepherds with the smell of the sheep.” Get out of the church and get to know your people. Be among them.
Francis placed human relationships at the center of spiritual life, with no need for anyone to fit some mold. Closeness was not to a select group of privileged few. Victims of abuse, the divorced and remarried, young people struggling with the institutional church, those who identify as LGBTQ or atheist — Francis reached out to all, widening his embrace and calling the Church to do the same.
Pope Francis’ closeness stemmed from knowing a God of deep compassion. This pontificate changed the vantage point of Catholic leaders, encouraging them not to see the world through stained glass, but rather through the eyes of those who are on the periphery and suffering.
Francis turned part of St. Peter’s Square into a refuge for the homeless. At World Youth Day in Panama, he stopped to visit a shelter for those with HIV. Time and again he has witnessed that where there is suffering, the Church must be present. The Church must weep with those who weep.
This was also a constant thread in his writings, especially “Laudato Si’” and “Fratelli Tutti,” which called all people of goodwill to expand their reach of compassion to the poor, the forgotten, the earth and to those with whom we may have differences. The Church is a “field hospital,” Pope Francis often said, and we must provide healing to all without reservation.
But perhaps it is his tenderness, which is the gift which stands out most to me. Tenderness is not often a word used when speaking of leaders of major institutions, yet in his leadership of the expansive Catholic community, it was tenderness that was often witnessed. He knew tenderness personally and sought to invite others to experience it and share it as well.
When asked who he was, he didn’t list his accomplishments. He said simply: “I am a sinner whom the Lord has looked upon.” Such reflections were common in his pontificate, opening doors for so many to understand a God whose very name is mercy.
As I reflect on his life and ministry, I am grateful that Pope Francis lived his life as a witness of the God he knew deeply: a God of closeness, compassion and tenderness. For this I give thanks. If that is his legacy, may we all learn from it.
Father Bradley A. Zamora is the Catholic Chaplain and director of the Sheil Catholic Center at Northwestern. He can be contacted at [email protected]. If you would like to respond publicly to this op-ed, send a Letter to the Editor to [email protected]. The views expressed in this piece do not necessarily reflect the views of all staff members of The Daily Northwestern.
