This photo by AP photographer Gregorio Borgia of Pope Francis embracing 8-year-old Dominic Gondreau, who has cerebral palsy, captured the attention of people around the world. The moment took place after the new pontiff celebrated his first Easter Mass in St. Peter’s Square at the Vatican March 31. (Gregorio Borgia, AP via CNS)
It’s an exciting time. The first pope in 600 years has stepped down in a noble and humble way for “the good of the Church.” We prayed and waited and watched, wondering what God was doing, how He would lead us. And then the smoke, the white billowing smoke that seemed to say, “I will never abandon you.” Our hearts were caught up in the beauty and anticipation, and a hope that seemed almost tangible.
Then a simple wave from a simple man in white; the bow of humble petition for our prayers; and the gestures in the days that followed showing us what to expect: the authentic manifestation of a life dedicated to living out the mercy of God.
Pope Francis says this: “The message of Jesus is mercy. For me, I say this humbly, it is the Lord’s most powerful message.” He has already given us many wonderful quotes about mercy, and it seems he will give us many more. But what strikes me most is how moved I am by Pope Francis the person. It’s not just his words or the way he seems to genuinely affirm the dignity of each individual he meets. It’s all of it together and more, that inspires me in a new way.
I’ve talked to many people during these days, and we find ourselves feeling the same kind of excitement, something stirring in the heart of the Church. This man, unknown to most of us until he stepped out onto the central loggia of St. Peter’s Basilica, makes us want to be better, more real, more holy, more in love with God, and kinder to our neighbor.
He refuses to keep himself at a distance and instead comes to be with us in our misery, to love us in our brokenness, imitating the One whose mercy he has himself encountered. And as he walks among us gently, humbly — but with purpose and conviction — we find ourselves compelled to be more charitable, giving, patient …
It’s as if, suddenly, aware of his presence, we are confronted with our own lack of integrity and virtue. What’s astonishing is that we do not feel condemned, but elevated, like the woman told to “Go and sin no more.” That’s the empowering tenderness of mercy. That’s the impact of our new Holy Father.
We’ve been so blessed with popes in my lifetime, each one such a gift to the Church. And now it seems God has given us a special gift again; one that we’ve been lovingly and gently prepared for; one that is a bit unnerving, if truth be told.
Separated as the Body by continents and language and custom, there’s something in the air for us all … something old but new, the same yet different now. Something that has united us and made us feel alive, but also challenged.
Our shepherd here on earth has reminded us, in his own unique way, of how we are to live. We watch him doing it, and he makes it seem so accessible, so possible in our every day lives. But it will not be without the cross.
It may be that God is saying, “Through John Paul II and Benedict XVI I have formed you, educated you, strengthened you. You are ready, the world is ready, and I have sent someone to lead you.” It will stretch us and change us from the inside out. That’s what mercy does. It heals us, lifts us up from our knees, and then says “Go.”
But there is nothing to fear, because we have felt, as Pope Francis says, “the caress of the mercy of Jesus Christ.” It’s an exciting time. There is something so simple and yet so radical in this reminder to us of our call: to love Jesus, Mercy Incarnate, to embody mercy, and to share that mercy with the world.
