A Prayer for Pope Francis

I want to say something about Pope Francis.

Lord knows I am a terrible cynic about the Catholic hierarchy these days, and they’ve earned it. I am shy about saying any high-ranking cleric at all is a fantastic person, after loving John Paul the Second so much and then finding out all that’s known. But I really do love Pope Francis.

I’ve been off Twitter for the most part the past week or so. Bluesky is much nicer for my constant social media bantering.  But this means I’m separated from the back-and-forth of what’s left of the Catholic Twitter community, both the good and the bad, and I’m not caught up in the Catholic news as I used to be. I didn’t see that Pope Francis was seriously ill until very early last night. I just saw now that the bronchitis has turned into double pneumonia. By the time you read this, it may be worse. That’s made me so sad.

I hope he pulls through. Maybe that’s selfish of me. He’s an eighty-eight-year-old man with one and a half lungs and in pain. Maybe it’s his time to go home. But I would be happy if he stayed a little longer.

I remember seeing Pope Francis giving an awkward wave from the balcony that very first day so many years ago, and being charmed by his bemused expression.

I remember kneeling in my living room when he blessed the whole world during the COVID pandemic.

I have been heartened by Francis’s service to the poor, to prisoners, and to sex workers, in an era of discovering so many hideous truths about a Church I was raised to believe was a spotless mother. Just knowing about the things he’s said and done has been a bright light in a dark time. This is what the Church ought to be: a servant to the least of Christ’s brethren.

I have been glad of his reminders of our duty as stewards of the environment.

I must admit, I’m glad he put that narcissistic grifter Frank Pavone in his place, and I enjoyed it when he clapped back at J. D. Vance.

I’m as angry as anyone about Rupnik, and all the other myriad sex abuse cases,  and I wish he’d gone much further and been far more vehement about stopping them. I’m not trying to minimize the abuse, and how angry I am, when I talk about Francis’s merits. I hope that progress has been made. Progress continues to need to be made.

I’ve been irritated at how Pope Francis has gotten the reputation of being some kind of flaming liberal, because he’s put women in a few places of limited authority where there weren’t any women before (while still denying us Holy Orders). But the Vatican moves at a glacial pace, and he melted the glacier a little. He seems to think women are humans, which plenty of clerics do not.

As a queer Catholic myself– and because everybody always asks, I’m bisexual and married in the Church to a man, but that doesn’t make me straight– I’ve been deeply hurt by how angry people have gotten when Pope Francis has tried to say kind things about us. It’s really demonstrated that some people think you can’t be a follower of Jesus unless you stigmatize and hurt marginalized people. The Pope has tried to be loving, and that’s a relief. I’m also hurt that he didn’t go nearly far enough. I’m especially sad at how wrong he’s been about my transgender brothers and sisters. He’s made the occasional off-the-cuff comment that stings like a slap in the face. But I believe he’s tried to be loving. That’s a huge step forward.

I view Pope Francis as a man who has tried his best to live out the Gospel in his life.

And that’s what a saint is. I’m not going to canonize him; that’s far above my pay grade. I don’t know the state of his soul and neither do you. For all I know there are scandals beneath the surface that will break my heart if I find out about them. But from what I can see right now, he looks like a man who’s trying to live out the Gospel, with the knowledge he has, despite the limitations he has, to the best of his ability. If that’s so, he’s a saint indeed. That’s what all of us ought to do.

I pray for Pope Francis to have a gentle and painless transition to eternal life, whether that’s now or at another time. May perpetual light shine on him.

May all of us be saints.