Pope Francis, who passed away on April 21, 2025, at age 88, leaves a lasting legacy that reshaped how leadership is viewed inside and outside the Catholic Church. His time as the 266th pope was defined by a strong sense of humility, deep concern for others, and an unusual willingness to listen and adapt. From the beginning, he stood apart. The day after his election in 2013, instead of basking in ceremony, he returned to his modest hotel, settled his own bill, and carried his own luggage. It was a quiet act, but one that immediately told the world he intended to do things differently.
Leading with Simplicity
Pope Francis was the first pope from Latin America, the first Jesuit pope, and the first to take the name Francis, in honor of St. Francis of Assisi. That name choice was intentional: like the saint, he wanted a Church that stood close to the poor and that led by example. He declined the papal apartments and instead lived in a small guesthouse. He was often seen carrying his own briefcase, choosing a small Ford Focus over the traditional papal limousine.
These weren’t publicity stunts. They were part of who he was. He once married two flight attendants aboard a papal plane mid-air, showing his ease with the unexpected and his belief that rules should serve people, not the other way around.
Reforming from Within
Pope Francis brought change to a Church that had grown used to certain ways of doing things. Early in his papacy, he created a group of advisors from around the world to help him govern and make decisions. He worked to clean up Vatican finances, pushing for accountability where it was long overdue. One of his boldest actions was allowing a powerful cardinal to be tried and sentenced for financial wrongdoing—something almost unthinkable in previous eras.
He also took real steps to respond to the ongoing sexual abuse crisis in the Church. He removed the policy of “pontifical secrecy” that once kept abuse cases behind closed doors. He admitted his own failings and those of Church leadership, and though critics said he could have gone further, there’s little doubt he pushed the institution forward.
Choosing Compassion Over Protocol
Some of the most moving moments of Pope Francis’s leadership didn’t happen in front of microphones. He often visited prisoners, homeless shelters, and migrant centers. On Holy Thursday, instead of washing the feet of fellow clergy, he washed the feet of refugees, including Muslims and women, even as critics pushed back.
There was the time he embraced a man with severe facial tumors in St. Peter’s Square. Where others might hesitate, he drew the man close and held him, not saying anything, just being present. Or the day a young boy asked if his non-believing father was in heaven. Pope Francis invited the boy to the stage, hugged him, and gently told him that a loving father like his surely pleased God. These were not press moments; they were examples of a man leading through empathy.
After addressing Congress in Washington in 2015, Pope Francis skipped the official luncheon and instead chose to dine with homeless people. At that meal, he spoke not about policies, but about the simple need for dignity, for shelter, for community. Again and again, he used his position to shift the focus from the powerful to the overlooked.
A Voice in the World
Beyond the Church, Pope Francis used his voice to speak plainly about issues that many leaders avoided. He spoke about climate change in ways that connected it to human suffering, especially for the poor. He said that caring for the earth was not just about science but about responsibility to each other.
In war-torn regions, he called for peace again and again, visiting countries that popes had never set foot in. In South Sudan, he invited rival leaders to the Vatican, and in a moment that surprised even his closest aides, he knelt and kissed their feet, asking them to stop the fighting. These weren’t scripted gestures; they came from a place of deep personal conviction.
He built bridges between faiths, becoming the first pope to co-sign a document on human fraternity with a Muslim leader. In Myanmar, in the Central African Republic, and elsewhere, he visited people that most world leaders never do.
During the pandemic, when St. Peter’s Square was completely empty, Pope Francis stood alone in the rain, praying for the world. That image stuck with millions—a quiet, tired figure asking for healing, unity, and mercy when it was needed most.
Remembering the Person
Pope Francis was not without critics. Some within the Church felt he moved too fast; others, not fast enough. But few would question the sincerity he brought to the role. He made mistakes and owned up to them. He didn’t lead with fear or distance. He led by showing up, listening, and remembering names. He often asked people to pray for him, not as a performance, but as someone who knew how much the work demanded.
What he offered the world was a different kind of leadership—one that didn’t rely on status, but on presence. He showed that sometimes, the most powerful thing a leader can do is to sit with the hurting, speak plainly, and act with consistency.
As we remember his life and legacy, may we take to heart his simple yet profound reminder: “A little bit of mercy makes the world less cold and more just.”
