You will show me the path of life, the fullness of joy in your presence,at your right hand, bliss for ever.
Psalm 16 from Mass on Easter Monday
Fathers John Fitzpatrick (r) and John O’Connor (c) with Cardinal Bergoglio in Buenos Aires
Do not judge and you will not be judged. Words of Jesus. Mostly I have thought of this in terms of not judging others negatively but it also means not judging others at all. Who am I to judge someone to be good or bad, right or wrong?
Respect: do not comment, do not judge, do not interfere.
pope Francis : Reflection from hospital
The death of Pope Francis has shocked us all and there has been a great outpouring of affection and respect for him. Largely positive assessments. Yet, even in the positive comments you get the sense that experts are judging him to have done a fairly good job. But who are we to say even that? As Jesus himself said, human assessment or approval means nothing. Only God can judge.
But we have to say something because Pope Francis has touched and affected our lives from the moment he came out onto the balcony and stood in a long silence before speaking on the day he was elected. We remember how he bowed to the people gathered there.
I remember the day well. Dave and I had been to see the movie Django Unchained in Dublin City and we had laughed heartily at the madness of it. I was on the DART back to Shankill listening to the radio through headphones when news of his election broke. And a silent excitement surged in me because I knew he was the Cardinal from Buenos Aires who was known to my Pallottine colleagues there, including John O’Connor, my Parish Priest in Shankill. I couldn’t wait to get home to hug John and share the joy. It was quite an extraordinary moment.
John later met Francis in Rome and brought him the gift of a new zucchetto which the Pope accepted, placing it on his head and giving the one he was wearing to John. The morning after John got back he called me to his room to show me the zucchetto and as I held it in my hands, John said, “put it on!” which I duly did, feeling it like a blessing on top of me. It was the closest physical contact I ever had with Pope Francis and I’m a firm believer in the power of being touched by another’s clothing. Grateful indeed.
Of course Francis gave his opponents plenty of reason for disquiet and I myself have been frequently disturbed by him which is not necessarily a bad thing at all.
I never got to meet Pope Francis and only once saw him live. That was at the funeral of Pope Benedict XVI which I was privileged to be at.
Francis was already frail as he spoke to us about this “friend of the Bridegroom” on that morning shrouded in fog, as if nature herself were in mourning. I could understand much of what the Pope said in Italian but it was not so much the content of his words that touched me as the tone of his voice, so soft, so gentle, so true.
This is what I wrote of that experience:
“I am struck by the sound of the voice of Pope Francis – the beauty and tenderness of it. The immediacy and intimacy. Sound matters.
During Christmas I pondered the sound of God’s voice in the baby Jesus, the wordless sound before Jesus learned to speak. This is a most precious sound, this sound of God’s voice, its tone, even in its hungered crying.
It is the sound of God’s voice that I sensed, heard in Pope Francis. And even though I understood some of what he said, it was the presence of God that I felt in the sound of his servant’s voice. A frail servant, an imperfect servant – and by his own admission a sinful servant – but God’s chosen servant. And I was struck too by the fact that the sunlight broke through the fog and rested on him as he gave his homily. It was like a transfiguration.”
Nature responding to a Divine moment!
Everything has been written and said about him so there’s no need for me to list the many deeds that have inspired me, his deeds much more than his words. But there was something very impressive about how he related to the a person – the woman in the crowd with the yellow flowers at the Gemelli hospital for instance. And his daily phone call to the priest in Gaza, waving in childlike manner at the people on the screen and this simple, human question, “what have you eaten today?” A motherly, fatherly instinct.
I’m at home in Mervue with all of this and, while cherishing this needed break, part of me wants to be with my people in Hastings. But this is where God has me! God is always in charge – of me and of the Church and every one of us – so I have no fear for myself or for the future of His People.
I’m grateful for the messages of sympathy I have received from people, including from those who are not Catholic and there’s one quote that specially resonates with me from an anonymous tribute to Pope Francis:
“Light has found him. And Love has brought him home.”