Tag: Pope Francis

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Remembering Pope Francis

Like so many people around the world, I woke up to the news that Pope Francis has died. The news cycle will no doubt be in a continuous loop of commentary, filled with whatever bias that particular speaker may harbor. Everyone will have an opinion on his papacy and legacy. But what if we refocus, and instead of bias we consider encounter.

Pope Francis leaves a legacy of encounter, committed as he was to visiting marginalized communities, inter-religious dialogue, engaging the poor and vulnerable, and advocacy for migrants and refugees. This past Holy Thursday at his visit to Regina Coeli prison, he lamented not being able to wash the feet of prisoners this year.

The Gospel is a story of encounter. It is the story of God’s pursuit of humanity and the transformative meetings between Jesus and individuals, culminating in the ultimate encounter: Jesus’ death and resurrection, which opens the way for humanity to meet God intimately through grace. God continually seeks us, meeting us where we are, and transforming us through relationship.

In Evangelii Gaudium, Pope Francis exhorts that we are to be missionary disciples:

“Evangelisers thus take on the ‘smell of the sheep’ and the sheep are willing to hear their voice” (EG, 24)

Encounters with His Sheep

One of the charming ways that Pope Francis stepped out of the crowd and into personal encounter was in his delight when the youth took selfies with him. I’m not suggesting that these physical encounters were anything more than the joy of meeting the Pope, or the joy the Pope took in meeting the youth. What it definitely was, indeed continued to be, was the opportunity to be present, even for just a fleeting moment, to an individual or intimate group.

That is the gist of his papacy, a papacy filled with encounter. Perhaps there were hopes for a transformative papacy, an ushering in of reforms in a time when the church was steeped in controversy. Instead, Pope Francis smelled of his sheep.

A Surprise Selfie with the Pope

In 2015, I had the pleasure of meeting Pope Francis on his Apostolic trip to Cuba. His theme for this trip, Missionary of Mercy, was driven by his desire to be a witness to the message of mercy. It was a powerful message for a communist regime, but more so for the people of Cuba. It was a powerful opportunity for encounter.

My family had the opportunity for a private audience with Pope Francis. It was an intimate moment because of many complex circumstances, one I explain at length in this post from a couple of months ago. But, the bottom line is that when Pope Francis and I spoke, in a brief exchange in which he asked about my family, I felt an ineffable feeling of encounter. His eyes took me in warmly, and it wasn’t the Pope, but a warm Father that delighted in my request for a selfie. I was unable to capture the twinkle in his eye, but I did get the selfie.

Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.

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Frome Selfie to a Prayer

Recalling a Special Moment with Pope Francis

Some years ago, in fact, it was the fall of 2015, I found myself scrambling to get a religious visa in order to travel to Cuba. It was an extraordinary intersection of a number of meaningful moments in my life. First, it marked my return to the country of my birth, almost a week to the day, 50 years prior, that I left Cuba with my mother. I was preparing for the launch of my first book, and my uncle, who is a bishop in Cuba, invited the family to join him as he received Pope Francis on his apostolic visit to the island. The Pope was on his way to the World Meeting of Families in the U.S., which I was planning to attend, but I changed my plans to jump on this opportunity for what turned out to be a transformative pilgrimage and reconnection to my family still in Cuba.

I’ve written about the experience in several places, but I want to share with you something I rarely talk about: gazing into Pope Francis’ eyes.

Pope Francis landed in Havana and made his way across the country to the diocese of Holguin, where the devotion to Our Lady of Charity started with the discovery of a miraculous statue of the Blessed Mother, and then was ending his trip in Santiago de Cuba, at the National Basilica of Our Lady of Charity of El Cobre for a Mass and his departure for the United States.

In Holguin, he celebrated a huge public Massm and then met with my uncle, the Bishop, and other priests for lunch and rest before the next leg of his journey. I joined my aunts, uncles, and my mother in the sitting room off the chancery dining room for an opportunity to have an private meeting with Pope Francis. It was a beautiful moment for my uncle, who served with the Pope on regional committees when he was Archbishop. It was a moment of intimate sharing between friends, shepherds and flock, and of course, Pope and Bishop.

It was both formal, with many introductions and protocol, and intimate and familial. At one point, at the urging of my children, I was emboldened to ask Pope Francis if he would allow me to take a selfie. That is perhaps one of the most transformative moments in my life as a Catholic. I had intended to kiss his ring, in awe of the Apostolic Succession and the rich symbolism of the Fisherman’s Ring. Instead, I boldly asked for a picture. He was holding my hand warmly in both of his as we spoke about my husband and children, and my career as teacher and newly minted author.

The tenderness with which he held my gaze was supernatural. I knew he was the Pope, but in that moment, as I asked for the selfie, it was as if I was looking into the eyes of my heavenly Father, lovingly indulging a silly request. It passed quickly. He said yes. I snapped not one, but two because the flash blinded us, and suddenly the press corps descended into the room when they heard the head of protocol call out “No selfies!”

Too late! I got the picture. His body guard took my phone from me and I was sure it was confiscated to delete the photo, but instead, he took pictures of our meeting for me. And I made the L’Osservatore Romano! My mom has the picture they snapped of our selfie!

So now, as we pray for Pope Francis, I don’t want to eulogize him in anticipation of what will be some day, but rather, share a lovely memory of his kindness and gentleness. May the Divine Physician grant him strength and healing, and may the Blessed Mother ease his discomfort, wrapping him in her tender care.

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simple advice for you

I ran across this wonderful video on the Aleteia YouTube channel and I want to share it with you. It’s short. It’s simple. It’s Truth, capital T.

I didn’t really begin to understand the Father’s love until I had children of my own. I gained a better understanding of my parents, and the unconditional love for my own children that wants nothing more than what’s good for them. How beautiful to love our children — how beautiful to be loved. How overwhelming good and beautiful to entrust ourselves to a loving God who will pick us up. Every time.

 

 

 

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