A Eulogy for Pope Francis: Mercy in Motion

"The great ones among us are those who serve." (Luke 22:26)

Photo by Coronel G on Unsplash

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ and to all people of goodwill,

Today, we gather - from every corner of the world, speaking every language, carrying every story - to say goodbye to a man who transcended his office, a man who redefined what it meant to lead, to serve and to love.

We gather in sorrow yet in profound gratitude, mourning the passing of His Holiness Pope Francis, a humble servant of God, a tireless advocate for the poor and a prophetic voice for our troubled world.

The bells of Rome toll not merely for the loss of a Pope, but for the passing of a humble shepherd who walked alongside us, bore our burdens and inspired a tired world to hope once more.

His departure on 21st April 2025, leaves an immeasurable void in the Church and beyond, yet his legacy of mercy, justice and radical love endures.

A Pope For All Ages

Jorge Mario Bergoglio, known to the world simply as Pope Francis, was many things in his long life; a son of immigrants, a teacher, a confessor, a bishop and ultimately the 266th successor of Saint Peter.

Yet beyond all the titles and honours, he was, first and foremost, a servant. His greatness was not forged in grand declarations or distant authority, but in the quiet power of presence, compassion and radical simplicity.

Born in Buenos Aires, Argentina, he carried the heart of a pastor from the very beginning.

A son of immigrants, shaped by the struggles of his people, he learned early that faith must be lived in solidarity with the suffering.

From his earliest days as Archbishop of Buenos Aires, Francis shunned privilege. He rode the bus. He cooked his own meals. He visited the villas miserias - the slums — not for photographs or statements, but because he believed that the face of Christ could be found there.

His ministry was marked by closeness - a closeness to people, to suffering and to the God who walks with humanity in its brokenness.

When he stepped onto the balcony of St. Peter’s Basilica on 13th March 2013, the world saw a man clothed not only in white, but in humility.

Before offering the traditional papal blessing, he bowed low and asked the people to pray for him first. That single gesture captured the spirit of his pontificate; a Pope who placed himself among the faithful, not above them.

He was a Pontiff of firsts:— The first Jesuit Pope. The first Pope from Latin America. The first Pope to choose the name "Francis," evoking the memory of Saint Francis of Assisi, a man of poverty, peace and profound care for creation.

He embodied a new vision for the Church, one that sought out the wounded, welcomed the excluded and walked with the lost.

But Francis’s impact went far beyond history-making headlines. He breathed fresh air into a weary Church.

He spoke of mercy not as a theological concept but as the very heartbeat of God.

In a fractured, fearful world, he made it his mission to remind us that the Church must be a "field hospital after battle" - a place of healing, not judgment; of accompaniment, not exclusion.

Time and again, he turned our eyes toward those so easily forgotten; the poor, the migrants, the elderly, the incarcerated, the unborn, the lonely.

A Shepherd of the Margins

From his first moments as pope, he made clear where his heart lay.

He washed the feet of prisoners, embraced the disabled, dined with the homeless and repeatedly urged the Church to "smell like the sheep."

His papacy was defined by a relentless call to encounter -to step out of our comfort zones and meet Christ in the poor, the refugee and the sinner.

His first trip outside of Rome was not to a grand European capital or foreign shore, but to Lampedusa, a small Italian island in the Mediterranean that housed a temporary immigrant reception centre.

He wept over the countless migrants who had drowned seeking a better life. "Who has wept for these brothers and sisters?" he asked us then, and he continued to ask throughout his papacy.

A Courageous Reformer

Pope Francis was not content with comfortable Christianity and faced resistance, yet he never wavered in his pursuit of a more transparent, merciful and synodal Church.

He reformed Vatican finances, held bishops accountable for abuse cover-ups and decentralised authority to empower local churches.

He called us all to a deeper conversion of heart, a willingness to go to the peripheries, not only geographical peripheries, but existential ones; places of doubt, despair and woundedness.

His famous words "Who am I to judge?"  marked a turning point in the Church’s approach to LGBTQ+ Catholics, emphasising pastoral care over condemnation.

Though critics accused him of causing division, he remained steadfast, believing that "realities are greater than ideas."

His ministry echoed the teaching of Jesus: that love of neighbour is inseparable from love of God and that the measure of our faith is found in how we treat the least among us.

He taught through actions as much as words. He kissed the disfigured. He embraced the homeless. He welcomed the estranged. He opened the doors of the Vatican to the poor for showers, meals and medical care. He celebrated Mass not only in the grandeur of Saint Peter’s Basilica but in prisons, refugee camps and modest chapels.

And when he spoke, the world listened.

His encyclicals - Laudato Si', Fratelli Tutti, Evangelii Gaudium and others - were not dry theological documents, but living invitations. They were manifestos of a Church in mission - one that defends human dignity, protects our common home and builds bridges of brotherhood.

He called for a revolution of tenderness in a world numbed by indifference. He insisted that care for the environment was not an optional concern, but a moral and spiritual imperative.

He dreamed aloud of a human family reconciled, a fraternity that transcends borders, ideologies and fears.

Francis was also a Pope who understood that to lead meant to listen. He convened synods not as stage-managed events, but as true spaces of dialogue.

He invited laypeople, women, the young and the marginalised into conversations once reserved only for the hierarchy. His leadership was not domination but discernment; a seeking together of where the Spirit might be calling the Church in our times.

Of course, he was not without critics. His commitment to dialogue and reform unsettled many.

His emphasis on mercy over rules drew both admiration and suspicion. Yet through it all, he bore opposition with patience and good humour.

He knew that true renewal would be messy, difficult and slow. "Time is greater than space" he often reminded us; a phrase capturing his trust that seeds planted today would bear fruit in God’s time.

A Peacemaker in a Broken World

In an age of war, inequality and environmental crisis, he was also a voice of conscience. He wept over the wars in Ukraine, Syria and Yemen, pleading for diplomacy over arms. The world it seems isn't always full of love, but has abundant deaf ears.

He risked controversy to mediate peace, standing against militarisation and greed. His visits to conflict zones - from Iraq to South Sudan - were acts of hope, proving that faith must be a force for reconciliation.

A Man of Radical Humility

In his private life, Francis remained profoundly simple. He lived in a modest guesthouse rather than the ornate Apostolic Palace.

He carried his own bag, paid his own hotel bills and insisted on being called simply "Father." His authenticity disarmed world leaders and ordinary believers alike.

He continued to make personal phone calls to those who wrote to him in distress. He found joy in small things; a good cup of mate tea, the laughter of children, the stories of the poor. He never lost the heart of a parish priest.

In his final days, even as his strength waned, his spirit remained luminous and he never stopped serving - offering his sufferings for the Church he loved.

He continued to bless pilgrims, meet quietly with the suffering and offer his prayers for a world he loved so dearly.

His last public words echoed his life-long message,

"Do not tire of doing good. Do not be afraid to love."

His Final Gift to the Church

In death, as in life, Pope Francis calls us back to the Gospel’s heart

"Mercy is the Lord’s most powerful message." 

Though some resisted his reforms, history will remember him as the pope who made the Church a place of refuge, not judgment - a home for all.

As we bid him farewell, we pray that the Father of Mercy welcomes him into eternal joy, and that his vision of a Church that is "poor and for the poor" lives on in us.

Today, as we mourn, we also give thanks.

Thanks for the Argentine boy who once dreamed of becoming a missionary to distant lands, only to find his missionary field was the whole world.

Thanks for the Pope who did not seek to be a ruler but a brother; not a prince but a servant.

We give thanks for the witness of a life well lived - a life spent not accumulating honours but emptying himself in love for others. We give thanks for a man who reminded us that to follow Christ is to embrace the cross, but also the joy that comes with giving oneself away.

Pope Francis taught us that no one is beyond the reach of mercy, that the Church must always be a sign of hope and that each of us is called to be an instrument of peace.

His words will be remembered. His gestures will be recounted. But it is his spirit, his humility, his courage, his tenderness, that will live on wherever people choose fraternity over fear, love over indifference and service over selfishness.

As we commend his soul to God, we are comforted by the hope he so often proclaimed: that death is not the end, but a doorway into the fullness of life.

We trust that today Pope Francis hears the words he spent his life longing to hear, "Well done, good and faithful servant. Enter into the joy of your Lord."

May the angels he so often invoked in his blessing now lead him gently home. May he be greeted by the poor he loved, the prisoners he consoled, the migrants he defended, the earth he cherished.

And may he now behold, face to face, the infinite Mercy he spent his life proclaiming.

Requiescat in pace, Papa Francesco.

Thank you for walking with us. Thank you for showing us the face of Christ. Thank you for reminding the world that, even now, love is stronger than death.

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Thanks for reading.