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Jorge Mario Bergoglio of Argentina died this morning in his own bed at 1:35 ET.
He was formerly a chemical technician, working in a food laboratory under the supervision of the biochemist and political activist Esther Ballestrino. He was a bouncer at a nightclub. He was a janitor.
As far as I know, these are all firsts for a pontiff.
There are others, of course: the first Jesuit, the first Latin American (the first from the Americas, period), and the first from the Southern Hemisphere.
Pope Francis had guts, though he probably didn’t think of it that way.
He was earnest in an era of pervasive cynicism, humble amidst no shortage of global chest-beating, kind in a period of mounting cruelty, stubbornly resolved against evil when few global leaders had such temerity to speak out with similar candor, and perhaps the most impressive thing of all for the time in which we live: he was open to learning.
I’m sure a lot of folks will dismiss that as a low bar, which is curious to me since we’re talking about the Catholic Church, which isn’t exactly famous for its enlightened views on human sexuality and gender.
For many people who struggle with context and abhor the concept of incrementalism, what I’m supposed to say right now is that Pope Francis was deeply disappointing in his lack of evolution.
He was stridently opposed to abortion, maintained that being LGBTQ is a sin, and referred to the affirmation of trans youth as “ideological colonization,” among other cruel statements.
I am supposed to be disappointed by these things, too, and to an extent, I am.
But I’m far more grateful for Pope Francis than I am disappointed in him. I thank my lucky stars that the infamously socially-conservative Vatican was, for a time, led by a man who wasn’t content with the bare minimum or settling for what he could see but, instead, always seemed to be considering what might be possible.
Pope Francis had a particular way of aggressively pushing the envelope without outright opposing the Church’s traditional teachings on sex and gender, much to the annoyance of his conservative detractors.
He maintained that being LGBTQ is a sin, but he also made clear his thoughts that the Church spent far too much time and attention on the issue. In arguably the most famous quote of his entire papacy, he said:
If someone is gay and is searching for the Lord and has good will, then who am I to judge him? The Catechism of the Catholic Church explains this in a beautiful way, saying ... "no one should marginalize these people for this, they must be integrated into society.” The problem is not having this tendency, no, we must be brothers and sisters to one another, and there is this one and there is that one.
To that end, he refused to back down in his denunciation of the criminalization of homosexuality, calling it “neither good or just” and “I would tell whoever wants to criminalize homosexuality that they are wrong.”
And he made it abundantly clear that no LGBTQ person should be kicked out of their family for being LGBTQ in a world in which LGBTQ youth homelessness remains a heartbreaking, moral catastrophe. Moreover, he insisted that every LGBTQ person is entitled to a loving family.
He strongly opposed same-sex marriage, but he spent most of his later career—both as Pope and, prior to that, Archbishop of Buenos Aires—carefully and quietly (and then boldly) making the theological case for support of same-sex unions.
In 2023, he invited significant controversy from social conservatives when he published a declaration (Fiducia supplicans) permitting priests to bless couples married outside the Church, including same-sex couples.
This past January, the Vatican announced openly-gay men may enter seminary as long as they abstain from sex, which is the same standard for straight men entering seminary, of course.
In 2023, he fired Bishop Joseph Strickland from his post leading the Diocese of Tyler in Texas, following an investigation that scrutinized, among other things, his hateful comments against LGBTQ people.
He made a number of statements throughout his papacy about the evils of “gender ideology” (comparing our existence to “nuclear war” comes to mind), but he also insisted that openly-transgender people be welcomed into congregations.
In 2023, in response to questions by the Bishop of Santo Amaro, he declared that transgender people can be godparents, witnesses at weddings, and baptized by the Church.
It somehow went mostly unnoticed last month when—in perhaps the most surprising development on LGBTQ rights during his papacy—Pope Francis acknowledged there are “extraordinary” cases of gender dysphoria that may merit exceptions to the Church’s teachings on gender-affirming medical care.
Any way you slice it, the Pope recognized gender dysphoria does exist and implied that gender-affirming medical care may be necessary in some cases, or in other words: it is, in fact, possible that trans people are not inherently sinful by our existence but actually may be in harmony with God in our authenticity.
For any socially conservative religious leader to say this, with all its implications—let alone the head of Catholic Church—is a pretty clear sign of progress.
And yet, for those who had been following the tenure of Pope Francis, it wasn’t terribly surprising. He granted numerous audiences to openly-transgender people throughout his papacy, always engaging in good faith conversations, wanting to know more about their lives, always open to learning.
(Just as one of many examples, check out this essay written by Maxwell Kuzma, a trans man who writes movingly about meeting the Holy Father in 2024.)
Thus has been the rollercoaster for openly-transgender Christians (and not just Catholics) while observing his papacy: feeling hurt over his painful, anti-trans public comments and also feeling an increasing hope of possibility with the slow evolution of affirmation of trans people expressed by Pope Francis.
He stubbornly opposed the ordination of women and later backtracked on women deacons, probably after intense, private criticism from social conservatives.
But in 2021, he issued an order allowing women to be acolytes and lectors and made two high profile appointments of women to senior leadership positions in the Vatican: Nathalie Becquart to co-undersecretary of the Synod of Bishops and Catia Summaria to Promoter of Justice in the Vatican Court of Appeals (roughly similar to the U.S. Solicitor General).
It’s very difficult for me to judge Pope Francis because his strategy for social progress seems pretty obvious over the course of his papacy: strong public statements intended to mollify social conservatives combined with a lot of procedural steps and public visibility that constantly pushed up against the red line and asked if it, perhaps, that red line is actually misplaced.
The life of Pope Francis was a remarkable gift for this world, and I recognize the seeming impossibility of what he wanted to accomplish within the constraints of a world that lacked leaders with his insatiable appetite for the possible.
I had always wanted to, somehow, miraculously, meet him. I never got the honor.
In 2013, my girlfriend at the time and I managed to get into his New Year’s Day Mass. I was just feet away as he peacefully processed down an aisle through St. Peter’s Basilica, and though I know this may sound strange to a lot of folks, I can’t deny what I felt: he radiated a kindness that was personally touching, even in a large crowd.
For all his less-than-kind statements on transgender people, I still have always known, without any convincing needed, that this was a pastor who cared about me and wanted me to be closer to God and would receive me with God’s love. I think this evolution on trans equality boldly underlined that.
Given all he faced politically and socially and all he managed to learn through his openness and all he accomplished in spite of those once intractable obstacles that plagued the progress of the Church… who am I to judge him?
Charlotte - I found you and your writings a few years ago - and very grateful for that.
Thank you for your articulate and compassionate reviews of so many topics.
This was lovely - and included some of my own responses that I did not have the words to express as you've done here.
Thanks for writing this. I had been mostly disappointed by the lack of genuine change. But your compassion is very powerful and articulate. I really appreciate your giving me a better perspective.