A Humble Shepherd goes to his Eternal Home after giving the paternal blessings
(A Tribute to Pope Francis)
Today, the world mourns the loss of a remarkable soul — Pope Francis, the 266th successor of St. Peter, who has now gone to receive his eternal reward. With hearts heavy, we bid farewell to a man who redefined the papacy with simplicity, compassion, and unwavering commitment to mercy and justice.
Born Jorge Mario Bergoglio in Buenos Aires, Argentina, he was the first pope from the Americas, the first Jesuit pope, and the first to take the name Francis — inspired by St. Francis of Assisi, the saint of the poor. From the very beginning, Pope Francis embodied humility. He shunned grand tradition in favor of walking among the people — choosing a simple white cassock, living in the modest Domus Sanctae Marthae, and carrying his own briefcase.
More than any titles or protocols, what truly defined him was his love. Love for the marginalized. Love for the environment. Love for dialogue. Love for the broken and forgotten.
He reminded us that the Church is a "field hospital," meant to heal, not judge. His papacy was a beacon of hope to refugees, the homeless, the abused, and even the skeptical. With bold gestures — washing the feet of prisoners, embracing the disfigured, and visiting war zones — he showed the face of Christ to the world.
Even though he was criticized by a section of the Church for promoting pagan idols and constantly backing Islamists, Pope Francis witnessed Christ through his simplicity and love for the marginalized in his personal life. It was this authenticity — his humble example, his heartfelt concern for the last and the least — that made the whole world love and respect him, even when they didn’t fully understand him.
It is remarkable to note that Pope Francis, who suffered greatly due to severe infections during the Lent season, was taken home by the Divine Master — the Risen Lord who defeated death and rose gloriously on Easter Day. Just as Christ emerged from the tomb in radiant glory, our Holy Father now enters the fullness of that same Resurrection he preached with his life.
His final days, marked by pain, were a participation in the sufferings of Christ — and his passing, a quiet and sacred entry into the embrace of the One he loved and served. The timing speaks volumes. He did not die in the darkness of Lent, but in the radiant light of Eastertide — a sign of hope for all of us who believe in the power of the Resurrection. In an act of quiet strength and deep faith, he did not forget to offer the traditional Easter blessing Urbi et Orbi (to the city and to the world) before his final journey — a moving reminder that until his very last breath, he was a father to the Church and a servant of the Risen Christ.
To millions, Catholics and non-Catholics alike, Pope Francis was not just a religious figure — he was a moral compass in troubled times.
Today, the bells of St. Peter’s Basilica toll with sorrow, but also with gratitude. We thank God for the gift of Pope Francis — for his gentleness, his humbleness, his courage, his wisdom, and his radical love.
As he once prayed for the world from an empty, rain-soaked St. Peter’s Square during the pandemic, we now pray for him:
“Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May he rest in peace.”
Goodbye, Holy Father. You have fought the good fight, you have finished the race, you have kept the faith. Now, may you rejoice in the eternal Easter of our Lord and God Jesus Christ in Heaven.
