The world became a better place because it got to know Francis.  When Cardinal Jorge Bergoglio of Buenos Aires was introduced as the new pope in March of 2013, he reminded us of God’s merciful love and benevolent compassion for every person.  As he promised his friends in Latin America, he would not forget the poor when he went to Rome; his pontificate was dedicated to the poor, the forgotten, the marginalized, the discarded, and those who felt abandoned.

I can attest that I live my life and celebrate my faith a little differently because of Pope Francis.  When I privately say The Lord’s Prayer, I substitute the words “…Lead us not into temptation…” with “Do not abandon us when in temptation…” because he taught that God would not lead any of us into temptation though we find ourselves there quite often.  When we do, we want the Good Lord to be with us and see us through the challenges.  When I pray the Stations of the Cross, I do so by employing the eleventh station that he introduced, “Jesus’ cry of abandonment,” as a prayer of solidarity with suffering souls.  These are little things, but they remind me of his impact, much as he compared the church to a field hospital, challenged us to a culture of encounter, thought priests as shepherds should know the smell of their sheep, and taught that no human—not even the pope—can judge another.  I suspect his greatest impact, however, will be his encouragement of synodality in church communities around the globe.

This may seem subtle, but it could bring about a seismic shift for how we think and act and do church differently into the future.  The concept is tied to the message that we hear in daily Mass each of these fifty days of Easter from The Acts of the Apostles, which tells of the first synod that took place in Christianity.  Synod literally means “the journey that we walk together.”  In practicality, it gives us a play book for gathering and listening to the Holy Spirit while moving forward as one according to God’s guidance.  As Franics once stated, “We cannot become starched Christians, overeducated people speaking of theological matters while calmly sipping tea.  Rather, we must become courageous Christians who go in search of those who are the very flesh of Christ.”  He, in imitation of Jesus, challenged us to not be modern Gnostics or Pelagians, i.e., “people obsessed with law, absorbed with social and political advantage, punctiliously concerned for liturgy, doctrine, and prestige, vain about managing practical matters, or excessively concerned with personal fulfilment.”  The shift he offers leaders and all who are Catholic, then, is the one that Christ gave us: to lift up the lowly, care for the downtrodden, and reach out to those suffering in our midst.

Indicated by his papal motto, “miserando atque eligendo,” his legacy is about the mercy of God.  Just as Christ called sinners to be apostles and disciples so does God call us to advance the mission of creation.  Francis believed that he was called to serve as our spiritual father only because of God merciful gaze of love; he identified himself to the world as a sinner who was called forth to tell other sinners about God’s abundant grace and unconditional love.  He taught us that the very name of God is Mercy.  Though his earthly life ended on the morning after Easter Sunday, his love and legacy will live on, inspiring us and the hierarchical church to be compassionate rather than condemning, optimistic rather than oppressive.  In this way, we will see Christ in the poor and listen to the Holy Spirit in the voices of common people, even those who have been ostracized by our church or discarded by our society.  This synodal attitude that bears his imprint will strengthen us for our journey together as Easter People.