Pope Francis, the first pontiff from the Americas and one of the most consequential religious leaders of the 21st century, died Monday morning at the age of 88. The Vatican confirmed his passing through an emotional announcement by Cardinal Kevin Farrell, the camerlengo responsible for overseeing the Church during the interregnum. “At 7:35 this morning, the Bishop of Rome, Francis, returned to the house of the Father,” Farrell declared, closing the curtain on a papacy that dared to walk the tightrope between centuries-old tradition and pressing modern change.
Born Jorge Mario Bergoglio in Buenos Aires in 1936, Francis rose from humble beginnings as the son of Italian immigrants. A trained chemist, bar bouncer, and janitor before his call to the priesthood, he was shaped profoundly by Argentina’s Dirty War, during which he sheltered political dissidents from persecution. These early experiences would later define his papal focus on mercy, marginalization, and unity.
When he emerged from the 2013 conclave as Pope Francis, following the unprecedented resignation of Pope Benedict XVI, his election marked a turning point. He was the first Jesuit, first Latin American, and first non-European pope in over 1,200 years. His choice of the name Francis—after the 13th-century saint known for his humility and care for the poor—signaled his priorities from the outset.
What a perverted way to headline his death. No mention of God.
Just “he didn’t stomp on enough church teachings” and “climate change.” pic.twitter.com/D9FPf5KyEy
— Bonchie (@bonchieredstate) April 21, 2025
Throughout his papacy, Francis championed themes of compassion and simplicity, often choosing modest attire, rejecting lavish papal apartments, and making his Ring of the Fisherman out of silver rather than gold. He opened the Church’s doors to those on the margins: the poor, the imprisoned, migrants, and members of the LGBTQ community. In 2023, he permitted priests to bless same-sex couples—a controversial gesture seen as a radical, if carefully calculated, shift in tone.
Yet he did not bend on Church doctrine regarding abortion, marriage, or the ordination of women, prompting frustration among progressives. His responses to reformist movements, particularly the German Catholic Church’s progressive push, often reinforced the unity and universalism of Church authority rather than local experimentation.
Francis brought his moral authority to bear on global politics with equal resolve. He denounced nationalism, defended migrants, and condemned what he described as a “throwaway culture” that discarded human dignity for convenience. He was critical of both President Donald Trump’s immigration policies and President Joe Biden’s stance on abortion, once calling the latter’s position “incoherent” for a self-professed Catholic.
From addressing Congress in 2015, to calling for the abolition of the death penalty, to urging action on climate change, Francis made it clear that Catholic teaching extended far beyond cathedral walls and into the public square.
He also weighed in with candor on international conflicts, decrying the violence in Gaza, warning against rising antisemitism, and demanding peace in Ukraine. He walked a diplomatic line—challenging leaders while maintaining a global pastoral presence.
Pope Francis inherited a Church mired in scandal, particularly over clergy sexual abuse. Building on his predecessors’ reforms, Francis lifted the pontifical secret shielding abuse records and granted civil authorities access to Church documents. He initiated task forces to aid dioceses in preventing abuse and supporting survivors. Still, some critics argued that his handling lacked consistency and force.
His 2017 apostolic letter, Traditionis custodes, which restricted the Latin Mass, incensed many traditionalists who saw it as a rejection of Catholic heritage. But Francis defended it as a measure to prevent fragmentation and preserve ecclesial unity.
Though he carried the mantle of leadership with characteristic energy, Francis’s health declined sharply in recent years. Multiple hospitalizations for respiratory and abdominal issues, paired with a 2025 fall and recurring sciatica, raised questions about his stamina. Nevertheless, he continued to meet world leaders, travel abroad, and engage with the faithful until his final days. His meeting with U.S. Vice President JD Vance just a day before his death, despite visible illness, underscored his resilience and devotion to his role.
