The Legacy of Pope Francis

I attended Pope Francis’ historic address to the joint houses of Congress ten years ago as a guest of a New Jersey congressman. The fanfare was typical of Congress, but the excitement carried an unmistakable bipartisan energy as the Pope made his way down the aisle. I must admit, Pope Francis’ strong accent made his English difficult for me to understand—and I wasn’t alone. Within two minutes of the speech, I noticed many legislators below opening digital copies of the speech on their phones and iPads. I later received a printed copy.

The speech invoked the legacies of three American figures who championed social justice. Present that day were the many 2016 presidential candidates, seated in the House Chamber or squeezed into the balcony along with me. It was an electrifying moment, even for someone like me who is not a papist. The Roman Catholic Church remains the largest religious organization in the world. When demographers predict that Christianity will reach 3 billion adherents by 2050, it’s worth noting that half will be Roman Catholic. The Church’s mission of embracement has achieved more than is often acknowledged in the daily media.

Pope Francis (Jorge Mario Bergoglio) was chosen by the College of Cardinals in stark contrast to the theological conservatism of his predecessor, Pope Benedict XVI (Joseph Ratzinger). As a Latino from Argentina, familiar with social inequality in his homeland, Francis was poised and eager to address global disparities. He brought both a pastoral heart and the administrative ability that saw him rise from Archbishop of Buenos Aires to Cardinal in just three years. Unlike his predecessors, Francis was a Jesuit with graduate studies in sociology, while Benedict focused on theology and John Paul II on philosophy.

The Jesuit order was originally established to counter the Protestant Reformation, and Francis, according to Italian pastor Leonardo De Chirico, carried forward that mission “with a smile,” offering “a Roman Catholic alternative to the depth of what the Reformation pointed to.”¹ De Chirico noted that Francis “used evangelical language,” focusing “more on empathy than judgment, on warmth rather than clarity.” The Pope prioritized relationships over doctrine, suggesting the two were incompatible, and advanced a soteriological universalism outlined in his manifesto The Joy of the Gospel (2013).

Francis’ theology aligned more closely with the German Roman Catholic Church, diverging sharply from the views held in Africa, Asia, and even much of the American Catholic Church. The German Church promotes progressive interpretations of Scripture and doctrine, paralleling the divide between mainline liberal Protestants and Evangelical Protestants. Ironically, while financial resources flow abundantly in Germany, the Catholic population continues to surge in Africa.

Francis’ compassion led him toward inclusivity, often at odds with traditional biblical teachings. His approach echoed elements of Liberation Theology, a movement that merges biblical language with socialist values. Liberation Theology is the religious equivalent of Critical Race Theory, the social arm of Marxist thought. Compassion without scriptural grounding, however, can be dangerous. When Peter objected to Jesus’ foretelling of His crucifixion, Christ rebuked him with the words, “Get behind me, Satan” (Matthew 16:22–23)—reminding us that emotion untethered from truth can mislead.

Pope Francis will undoubtedly be remembered by many as a humble man. He declined the papal salary of $32,000 per month—more than quadruple the $65,000 annual salary of a cardinal—and redirected the funds to charities, foundations and family members. He also chose to live in modest quarters rather than the Vatican’s grand papal apartment.

His humility was underscored for me during a dinner I shared with a fellow Free Church pastor and another Protestant pastor who had just returned from a meal with Pope Francis at the Vatican. When we asked what stood out about the Pope, he said: “After dinner, in a large room furnished only with a table and three chairs, we left and closed the door behind us. Then Pope Francis remembered he’d left the light on and ran back to turn it off.” We laughed at the thought of the Pope conserving electricity at the Vatican.

Yet humility is a difficult trait for any pope to fully embody. After all, the Pope is regarded as infallible and carries the title Vicar of Christ—Christ’s representative on Earth. That, in my view, is a “humility breaker.” As Tim Challies points out, “The Pope claims to be Christ’s representative on earth… Yet this claim demeans the role of the Holy Spirit, for it is the Spirit to whom Christ entrusted his Church” (John 14:16-18, 26)². While the doctrine of papal supremacy was challenged during this pope’s reign, humility remains a questionable description for any pontiff.

I think that most theological commentators will commend Pope Francis for his compassion and humble demeanor, but acknowledge the doctrinal confusion he leaves behind. The divide within the Roman Catholic Church has deepened on issues of social doctrine and biblical interpretation. Though he was unable to take the Church fully leftward, he opened the door by legitimizing alternate, liberal and unbiblical interpretations of core Christian beliefs. Notably, he appointed over 50% of the cardinals now eligible to vote in the upcoming conclave—a legacy with far-reaching implications for the Church’s future. I wonder what this means for evangelicalism.

Pope Francis may be remembered as the first truly postmodern pope—one who questioned the knowability of truth itself. Theologically, he sounded more like Pilate (“What is truth?” – John 18:38) than Jesus. On the subject of homosexuality, his famous (or infamous) response was, “Who am I to judge?” My answer: “You are the Pope. Isn’t that what you were elected to do as the Vicar of Christ?” His evasive response reminds us of an essential pastoral duty: to make moral judgments based on the Word of God.

Praise Pope Francis for his Christ-like compassion toward those who “have not.” Critique him for diluting truth and enabling moral confusion and decay in the name of God—for that, is not like Christ at all.

 

¹ Leonardo De Chirico; Ligonier Ministries: https://www.youtube.com/watch?app=desktop&v=I-ypLDtHUI8

²  Tim Challies: https://www.challies.com/articles/the-humble-legacy-of-pope-francis/