COLUMN | Pope Francis: Catalyst of a Church at the Crossroads

Since time immemorial, the Catholic Church has been deemed authoritarian, anti-progressive, and bound by its disunited orthodoxies. But when Jorge Mario Bergoglio emerged onto the balcony of St. Peter’s Basilica in 2013, it was the start of the church's new rearing—signaling a brand of faith where compassion and benevolent reforms resisted the long-standing rigid traditionalism.

Truly, the world mourns the timely passing of Pope Francis. I am raised as a Catholic by birth, but I had observed my friends with different religious beliefs showed their respect and gratitude to the pope. It was a moment of a lifetime to view such harmony, and that is for the man who left a unifying legacy that made him a beloved figure of all seasons.

Pope Francis' papacy elucidated a straightforward break from tradition, making his brand totally the opposite of his predecessors. Historically, previous popes embraced the luxuries that came with the position, however, he chose to reject these symbols of power. He turned away from the lavish papal apartment and branded cars, opting instead for a life of humility.

With his Jesuit spirit, he redefined the papacy with warmth, accessibility, and empathy, even as apparent divisions deepened within the Catholic Church. As the first Latino pontiff, he set off a different undertaking from the dominating European clerics.

His Buenos Aires upbringing, rooted in helping the poor, his kindness inside of the Vatican's corridors, Pope Francis forged a pastoral and people-first approach where he would heed and serve as a voice to the people's sentiments. His vow of poverty as a Jesuit led him to reject a large salary. According to The Economic Times, the pope's salary by tradition is $32,000 (P1.8 million) monthly, but upon his refusal since he became pope, he chose to donate the money to the Church and foundations.

Rather than guarding the gates of the Vatican, he chose to kiss the feet of the poorest, choosing a life of service over wealth and power. Indeed, intact selflessness for a church leader— worthy of emulation.

In his second encyclical, entitled Laudato Si’, the Pope condemned big corporations for subtly normalizing consumerism among the people. He tackled the dangers of economic developments, of which he pointed to the increasing risks of climate change as its aftereffect. Firm on his judgment, he encouraged everyone about the moral responsibility of taking care of this planet, setting aside ideologies and petty personal interests.

What made him more iconic was his established support and compassionate stance toward the LGBTQ+ community. Famously stating, “Who am I to judge?," he has met with and ministered to LGBTQ individuals, constantly calling for an end to their experienced discrimination, and has championed their civil rights in public. In a 2020 interview, he endorsed same-sex civil unions as a legal safeguard for gay couples.

Under him, there was a space for all. He ventured into dialogue with atheists and other faiths, placing mercy and humanity at the forefront above dogma. He promoted women's empowerment and interfaith engagements. He denounced the ongoing genocide in Palestine more than any Middle East leaders and built communion between the Catholic and Muslim communities. He washed the feet of refugees, was vocal about deplorable governance, and recognized peaceful coexistence among all cultures. It is remarkable that his papacy was never centered on judgment but more on listening and interacting with everyone just like brothers and sisters— a rare one of its kind.

Certain traditionalist bishops and cardinals lambasted Pope Francis's way of leading the church. They saw his openness not as renewal but as a way of completely demarcating sacred boundaries, which they found unjust and against the holy will. Liturgical restrictions, synod reforms, and ambiguous doctrinal language triggered the existing tension.

At the heart of Pope Francis’ vision was the Synod on Synodality—his bold move to shift the Church toward a more inclusive, listening community. But conservatives grew unsettled, fearing it would trade theological clarity for catering to popular opinion or liberal machinations.

As the Pope inherited the lingering scandals plaguing the church's reputation, he maximized reforms in order to change the status quo. However, his journey to resolving it stirred a quiet but undeniable rift: dissenting messages, hesitant bishops, and vocal critics, which made it clear that not everyone welcomes his vision. Ironically, in trying to unite the Church, the Pope just exposed how saddeningly divided the church truly is.

Despite all the firsts Pope Francis achieved and the causes and reforms he championed, his progress was still limited by the very conservative nature of the Catholic Church. He was unable to fully institutionalize these changes within the Church. The Vatican’s entrenched conservative factions proved to be formidable hindrances.

The deeply hierarchical structure of the Church remained largely resistant to the inclusive vision Pope Francis held. No matter how groundbreaking his motives are, it was still tethered by the weight of centuries-old practices.

Now, Pope Francis’s death not only signifies the end of an ideal papacy but also opens a floodgate of ideological reckoning. This is what the conservatives are highly rooting for: choosing the next pope with the unsightly opportunity to reassert tradition and reinforce long held doctrines. They long for stronger boundaries, more defined roles, and less ambiguity. It is with no doubt, behind closed doors, some higher clerics aligned with the dogmatic view are already preparing for their moment.

I fear what the Pope started will be abruptly reversed. We worry about losing ground on social justice, inclusion, and synodal reform, which he strongly advocated for.

Although Francis has appointed a majority of the current cardinals, the looming reality is that conclaves are unpredictable. Hidden political and theological underpinnings will shape the next papal election. His influence will linger, but his legacy could just as easily be solidified—or undone—by his successor.

Nevertheless, it’s all about the soul of a church caught between tradition and transformation. But Pope Francis solidified the support of many, and it is imperative for the next to continue his legacy, never minding the pressure built upon by the conservative believers. After all, we are all human beings, sinners, but striving for the common good.

Pope Francis’ legacy hangs in the balance. He may be remembered not for resolving division, but for challenging to face it head-on. Whether his vision takes root or is swept away will depend not just on the next pope, but on the faithful who must choose between keeping the tradition or walking the deviating path with compassion.

His influence transcended boundaries, touching lives across all walks of faith even for non-believers. My Muslim friends will remember, my Manobo friends will remember, and so will my non-believer colleagues in the university, that is where the harmony grew— the thing that we need the most in this ever divided world.

Lolo Kiko, the catalyst, thank you, and may you rest in the promised paradise.