Pope Francis has died today, on Easter Monday and the memorial of St. Anselm of Canterbury. St. Anselm is about as different from Pope Francis as I can imagine a bishop being, but Easter Monday is a day of hope, and as much as people will often use the word 'mercy' in discussions of Pope Francis today, it was hope, I think, that best characterized him, a pope who was in some ways always looking for tomorrow. Hope was a key idea in the Urbi et Orbi speech yesterday:
The resurrection of Jesus is indeed the basis of our hope. For in the light of this event, hope is no longer an illusion. Thanks to Christ — crucified and risen from the dead — hope does not disappoint! Spes non confundit! (Romans 5:5). That hope is not an evasion, but a challenge; it does not delude, but empowers us.
All those who put their hope in God place their feeble hands in his strong and mighty hand; they let themselves be raised up and set out on a journey. Together with the Risen Jesus, they become pilgrims of hope, witnesses of the victory of love and of the disarmed power of Life.
He struggled greatly from following two intellectuals; lacking both St. John Paul II's philosophical ingenuity and Benedict XVI's theological erudition, and inclined on his own part to improvise his way through things, his tenure was often one of doctrinal controversy and he was often accused of at least speaking poorly and confusingly, and sometimes of at least material heresy. The improvising and lack of nicety, however, provably made him widely relatable and engaging, and while it was distressing to some, others found some relief in a pope who was, by his own account, willing to accept a great deal of mess.
He came into the papacy at a time when it was clear that there was need for extensive reform; poorly suited for the tedious practical work required, he relied heavily on others, and all too often seems to have found himself reduced to scolding or lecturing people without much effect. He was also notorious for being too quick to try to solve matters with scolding, and more than once, having scolded people for what he took to be their problems, he had to walk back his words. In many respects, his attempts in reform were failures, succeeding primarily only at a purely symbolic and cosmetic level. As I've said before, failure is the normal mode of being a pope; playing chess with the devil, a man will certainly lose, and all that a pope is really able to do is hold the office, restrain some things, encourage things, and pray, and let God draw from it whatever might be worthwhile. Francis was very far from being a great pope, but he was also not a disaster, and much of that, I think, is that he was active in prayer. Beyond that, it is God and not man who decides the ultimate result. Nonetheless, while not a disaster, much of the practical side of Francis's papacy has repeatedly broken down into incoherence, and I do not envy the pope who has to deal with inheriting it.
If Benedict's tenure struck me as often sad and lonely, Francis's has often struck me as one of frustration. An idealist by nature, he seems to have had great dreams, but he constantly failed to find any real cooperation with them, as his critics became more intractable and his allies often just used his ideas as cover for their own projects and interests. Many of the struggles of his papacy can safely be said not to be his fault; he inherited many tangled problems, an entrenched bureaucracy, and an increasingly unruly laity. It is an unpleasant task to be the one whose task is to get everybody on the same page at the moment they are becoming least inclined to listen. He actually dealt with this quite well -- one of his truly great strengths was his willingness to act, and sometimes ingenuity in acting, indirectly when needed, an important skill that historically has not been common among popes -- but throughout his papacy, whenever he has let his guard down, he has always seemed frustrated. What seems constantly to have pushed him through was a genuine and sincere desire to do good to others; such a tenacity in seeking good for people in their actual lives is a precious thing, and we can only hope that we see something like it again in our lifetimes.
The Pillar has a good account of his life, as well as a summary of what can be expected in the days to come.
