WHEN the Vatican announced the other day the death of Pope Francis, it was as if he had used up his last ounce of energy ministering to the faithful, preaching till the end a final message of hope.
The pope leaves behind a world that is gripped by uncertainty, violence, poverty, corruption and injustice. Accusations of sexual abuse by the clergy, including those in high office, as well as financial scandals remain unsolved. There is tension in the Church between traditionalists and liberals, not to mention those who view as “heretical” the popes since the second Vatican council. Add in concerns about environmental sustainability. Yet, in his Easter message, Francis uttered the word “hope” 11 times.
“The resurrection of Jesus,” his message read, “is, indeed the basis of our hope.”
“Thanks to Christ — crucified and risen from the dead — hope does not disappoint,” he also said, echoing the words of St Paul to the Corinthians that are also the slogan of the 2025 Jubilee Year.
‘He says: “A change in lifestyle could bring healthy pressure to bear on those who wield political, economic and social power.”’
The pope expressed solidarity with the suffering of people in Palestine, in Gaza in particular, as well as other trouble spots. He also called for the liberation of all prisoners of war and of political prisoners.
In his last of four encyclicals, Francis wrote in Dilexit nos (“He loved us,” 2024) a treatise on what one writer called “the transformative power of Jesus’ heart as a font of healing for a divided world.” His other encyclical letters were Fratelli tutti (“Brothers all,” 2020), Laudato si’ (“Praise be to you,” 2015) and Lumen fidei (“Light of faith,” 2013). While they address global crises like climate change, inequality and indifference, they also point to the possibility of renewal.
In Laudato si’, a critique of environmental destruction and consumerism, he writes that “all is not lost.”
He says: “A change in lifestyle could bring healthy pressure to bear on those who wield political, economic and social power.”
In Fratelli tutti, written during the pandemic amid issues of nationalism, racism, and inequality, Francis proclaims that “hope is bold.”
The pandemic, he said, allowed us “to realize that our lives are interwoven with and sustained by ordinary people valiantly shaping the decisive events of our shared history [who] understood that no one is saved alone.”
In February, he urged US bishops to continue defending and protecting migrants and refugees as their government was embarking on a campaign of mass deportation and generating anxiety among those targeted for expulsion. Jesus himself, Francis said, “chose to live the drama of immigration.”
“[He] did not live apart from the difficult experience of being expelled from his own land because of an imminent risk to his life,” wrote the pope. “And from the experience of having to take refuge in a society and a culture foreign to his own.”
We join the rest of humanity not only in mourning the loss of a holy man, but in heeding his message of hope in this largely imperfect world.
