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By now it seems that everyone believes it is as if he held on just long enough for Easter.
The Church lost a light on Easter Monday, just one day after giving his final Urbi et Orbi blessing from the balcony of Saint Peter’s Basilica, Pope Francis — Jorge Mario Bergoglio, the first Latin American and Jesuit Pope — died at the age of 88.
His last public words? “Happy Easter.” Perhaps, it’s not a coincidence but a grace. As if he needed to hear the Halleluia of the Church one last time before he allowed himself to go. Before he could enter the promise he had proclaimed his entire life, it seemed as though he needed to witness that “He is risen” and “the stone rolled away.”
Pope Francis has served as more than just the leader of the Catholic Church since his election in 2013. He became the people’s Pope. The one who walked beside those in need, the forgotten, and the marginalized, reminding many that the Church might also provide a place to breathe.
He carried wounds throughout his papal career. Not only his own, but the world’s: an unstable Church, a hurting Earth, displaced families, and weary souls. Throughout it all, he led with presence rather than power.
“Pope Francis made being Catholic less morally suffocating,” said sociologist Ash Presto. “Less burdened by contradiction. This is heartbreaking news for the faithful, and for those like me who slowly found their way to faith because someone at the helm reminded us that the Church could also be a place to breathe.”
Pope Francis broadened the boundaries of the dome. His papacy was founded on mercy. His lessons on climate change, economic inequality, migration, and inclusivity challenged the privileged while providing hope to the marginalized.
The late pope’s love for people was evident. You could tell by the way he smiled at the crowds on the regular Wednesday General Audiences. You could see it in the way he waved from his window at the Apostolic Palace every Sunday while praying the Angelus. You could hear it in his words: Soft but firm, challenging but loving.
His desire to be near others drove him to complete 47 apostolic missions, touching the lives of individuals all around the world. I, too, saw him once with my family. And in that brief instant, I experienced something I can only describe as divine. A holy presence that touched into my soul and stayed.
Even when a pandemic shut down the Vatican, Francis found a means to communicate with the faithful around the world. In the rain-soaked quiet of an empty Saint Peter’s Square in March 2020, he stood alone — praying for the world, blessing us through screens. In that loneliness, he felt closest.
He was a pope of many firsts, including being the first Latin American, the first Jesuit and one of the oldest to lead the Catholic Church. Pope Francis’ election to the pope in 2013 was a historic break from centuries of European tradition — the Church having not seen a non-European Pontiff since Gregory III, a Syrian, in 741. He was the first Pope from the Americas and the Southern Hemisphere, having been born in Argentina. His election was viewed as a bridge between worlds: conservatives were drawn to his traditional views on sexuality, while reformists were inspired by his fiery support for social justice and the marginalized.
But he never feared for his life. When asked why he didn’t use a bulletproof popemobile, he answered: “At my age, I’ve got nothing to lose.”
But what he gave — was everything.
Pope Francis was not scared to speak out. He supported the LGBTQ+ community, the divorced, refugees, and the underprivileged. He came out clearly against inequality and the degradation of the environment. And, despite accusations of diluting doctrine, he never wavered in reminding us of Christ’s call: love, above all.
Journalist Mara Cepeda put it beautifully: “A Jesuit Pope always felt right. Pope Francis walked with the poor, the queer, the women, the cast aside… He’s a moral compass in a dark, chaotic world. Rest easy, Lolo Kiko. Thank you for giving us hope.”
His death, announced by Cardinal Kevin Farrell, drew mourning from leaders around the world.
King Charles said His Holiness would be remembered for “his compassion, concern for the unity of the Church, and his commitment to common causes of all people of faith.”
Philippine President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. called him “the best pope in my lifetime,” remembering him as “a man of profound faith and humility.”
Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi, Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy, Australian Prime Minister Anthony Albanese, and even Russian President Vladimir Putin all praised the late pope’s wisdom, compassion, and consistent moral behavior.
Meanwhile, Cardinal Jose Advincula recalled the pope’s visit to the Philippines in 2015, describing it as “a moment of grace forever etched in our national memory.”
He remembered Pope Francis standing in the rain in Tacloban with typhoon Yolanda survivors, sharing not only their suffering, but also their optimism.
Pope Francis reminded us that faith is not something to be held firmly. It’s something to pass on — with open hands and hearts.
He showed us a church that walks alongside its members. That shares bread with sinners. That heals. That listens. That remains.
As Daily Tribune’s Jom Garner wrote: “Pope Francis will go down in history as, if not the most, then one of the most progressive the Roman Catholic Church has ever had. Thank you for standing up for the marginalized, the overlooked, and the underappreciated communities in our land.”
In his last Easter homily, Pope Francis encouraged the faithful to “look for Jesus everywhere — except the tomb.” And we still do so today, even as we weep.
Because Pope Francis leaves more than just a memory behind. He creates an echo — a life pouring out. A trailblazing journey of humility, kindness, and love.
Lolo Kiko, take your rest in paradise. You finished your race with grace.
The stone has now been rolled away.
