POPE FRANCIS LEGACY: THE CATHOLIC CHURCH IN CRISIS

Pope Francis is gone. His death marks the end of a papacy that was as transformative as it was turbulent. Admired by the whole world for his humility, he embraced the marginalized, challenged rigid traditions, and set the Church on a path of reform. Yet, within the institution he sought to renew, resistance simmered. His revolution left the Catholic Church in turmoil, its future uncertain, its unity fractured.

As I reflect on his legacy, three defining images flash before my mind – each a moment where his actions echoed those of Christ, where mercy triumphed over judgment, and where tradition was challenged in the name of love.

1. Who am I to judge? – Mercy Over Judgment

When asked about gay individuals in the priesthood, Pope Francis’ response – Who am I to judge? – sent shockwaves through the religious world. The simplicity of his words carried profound implications, shifting the Church’s tone from exclusion to grace.

Pope Francis met the LGBT+ community

A Reflection of Christ’s Mercy

His statement mirrors Jesus’ response to the adulterous woman facing death by stoning: Neither do I condemn you. (John 8:1-11). Jesus defied the legalism of his time, offering redemption instead of punishment. Likewise, Pope Francis reframed the conversation – not dismissing doctrine, but elevating human dignity above moral superiority.

Authority and Humility

When Jesus challenged the accusers, Let he who is without sin cast the first stone, he dismantled their self-righteousness, exposing their own imperfections. Pope Francis did the same. Refusing to sit in moral judgment, he disrupted the expectation that religious authority should enforce rigid verdicts on identity.

Jesus and the adulterous woman

A Church of Inclusion

Jesus’ final words to the woman – Go and sin no more – were not condemnation but an invitation: an opportunity for transformation. Pope Francis embodied this spirit, envisioning a Church that welcomes rather than excludes, and guides rather than dictates.

His message was clear: mercy is more transformative than judgment.

2. Washing the Feet of Muslim Women Refugees – A Radical Gesture of Inclusion

On Holy Thursday, Pope Francis bent down to wash the feet of Muslim women refugees – an act of humility that transcended cultural and religious boundaries. The image evoked Jesus’ encounter with the Samaritan woman at the well (John 4:1-26), an episode of radical inclusion in a divided world.

Pope Francis washes the feet of migrants

Defying Cultural Barriers

Jesus’ dialogue with the Samaritan woman was groundbreaking – not only was she a woman, but she belonged to a despised group. Yet, instead of rejection, Jesus offered her living water, a metaphor for salvation that extended beyond religious walls.

Similarly, Pope Francis washed the feet of Muslim women, a gesture unheard of in previous papal traditions. He demonstrated that service knows no creed, love knows no borders, and dignity belongs to all.

Leadership Rooted in Service

Jesus approached the Samaritan woman not as a ruler but as a seeker, engaging in conversation rather than declaring judgment. Pope Francis embodied this same principle, performing a servant’s act of humility that challenged hierarchy and redefined leadership as service.

Jesus and the Samaritan woman at the well

Faith Without Boundaries

Where Jesus’ words transcended religious structures, Pope Francis’ actions declared that compassion overrides division. In a world where faith is often wielded as a weapon of separation, his gesture called instead for unity.

3. Hugging the Man the World Feared to Touch – Redemption Through Love

One of the most unforgettable moments of Pope Francis’ papacy was his embrace of Vinicio Riva, a man suffering from neurofibromatosis, a condition that caused disfiguring tumors across his body. Society had rejected him, treating him as something monstrous. But Pope Francis did not recoil – he held Vinicio tightly, an echo of Christ touching the untouchable.

Pope Francis and Vinicio

Breaking Taboos

In Jesus’ time, lepers were feared and isolated, believed to be spiritually unclean. No one touched them. Yet, when a leper approached Jesus and pleaded, Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean, Jesus did the unthinkable – he touched him (Matthew 8:1-4)

Pope Francis did the same. He did not flinch, did not hesitate, rejecting fear in favor of love.

Healing Beyond the Physical

Jesus’ touch did more than cure diseases – it restored dignity. Likewise, Pope Francis’ embrace was more than an act of kindness – it told Vinicio, You are seen. You are worthy of love.

In a world where suffering is often met with avoidance, these moments of contact were not just compassionate – they were revolutionary.

Jesus and the leper

A Prophet Without Honor

Despite his radical acts of mercy, Pope Francis became the most hated man within the Catholic Church. The Guardian documented the ferocious backlash against him in its article The War Against Pope Francis, stating:

“Those who hate him most are not atheists, or protestants, or Muslims, but some of his followers. Outside the church, he is hugely popular as a figure of almost ostentatious modesty and humility… But within the church, Francis has provoked a ferocious backlash from conservatives who fear that his spirit will divide the church, and could even shatter it.”

Personal attacks were vicious: “We can’t wait for him to die. It’s unprintable what we say in private. Whenever two priests meet, they talk about how awful Bergoglio is … he’s like Caligula: if he had a horse, he’d make him cardinal.”

It brings to mind Jesus’ own words:

“A prophet is honored everywhere except in his own country, and among his people.” (Matthew13:57)

The Aftermath of His Revolution

Now, Pope Francis is gone. His revolutionary spirit left behind a Catholic Church caught between renewal and resistance. In Europe, worshippers are leaving in droves. Even Francis admitted in 2019:

“Faith in Europe and much of the West is no longer an obvious presumption but is often denied, derided, marginalized, and ridiculed.”

The decay is tangible.

A Personal Encounter with the Secularization of Faith

During my trip to Belgium last year with my wife, we saw this crisis firsthand. I wrote in my travelogue:

“As we drove through Belgium, we caught sight of a striking scene – a dilapidated Catholic church. Its once-majestic walls stood bare, stripped of their roof, open to the sky like a hollow shell of its former self. Weeds crept through the cracks in the stone, and the wind whispered through broken windows, carrying an eerie silence that spoke volumes.”

Abandoned Catholic Church in Belgium

Even the preservation of faith had changed. Mario, our host, told us that a wealthy man bought an old church – not to worship, but to honor his devout mother’s wishes. Now privately owned, it functions as an adoration sanctuary without a Mass or priest.

The metaphor is haunting: rather than the Church saving man, man had saved the Church – for 1.2 million euros.

The Vineyard at the Crossroads

Pope Francis planted seeds of renewal, hoping for a vineyard of inclusion and mercy. But now, the Church stands at a crossroads.

Will the vineyard flourish in the sunlight of reform?

Or will it wither, pruned back to its former state?

Only time will tell.

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Head photo design courtesy of EWTN, StockCake, & Canva

Still photos courtesy of faith.ph, BBC, Time Magazine, Adobe Stock, CNN, Facebook, Patrick Oben Ministries, Freepik, iStock,