The happy Pope of uncommon courage
I was crawling along in traffic on the M50 motorway in March 2013, listening to RTÉ Radio 1, when news about the election of Pope Francis broke. Back then, I never expected to have two personal experiences of him to reflect on now. The first was an unexpected encounter, just outside his residence in the Vatican, in the summer of 2014. During the height of the Syria conflict, the Vatican held an annual meeting with international Church agencies responding to the humanitarian crisis. At the time I was working with Trócaire and accompanied our then CEO to the gathering.
On the last day of that meeting, we were invited to pack up quickly and make our way to the Pope’s place of residence for a quick meet and greet. Within a few minutes, approximately 30 of us representing different agencies stood, suited and booted, like out of place FBI agents amongst a sea of tourists, in the sunshine outside the residence at St Martha’s.
Pope Francis suddenly appeared from the doorway smiling broadly before slowly moving through the group to shake hands warmly and firmly with each person. He initially apologised for greeting us in the street, before commenting that perhaps it was appropriate, given that we were all involved in walking with the displaced Syrians.
We stood in a circle with him, in the sunshine, on the cobblestones, heads bowed as he led us in prayer. He then moved around everyone again, to shake the hand of each, thanking us for the work, encouraging us to keep going. He looked extremely tired and said I quietly to his assistant ‘he looks very tired’ to which he responded ‘indeed, he is beyond tired’. I passed him a note written by a Syrian lady leading one of the many cross community relief efforts in her country, thanking him for his care and encouragement. Then, he hopped into a small car and was driven away to his next engagement. For me, it was an immense experience of humble, human and committed leadership.
In April 2019 I had just taken up the position of Country Director for Jesuit Refugee Service (JRS) in South Sudan. I was with some of the South Sudanese team watching Pope Francis kiss the feet of their stunned leaders whom he had invited to a retreat in the Vatican. With this gesture, he pleaded with the leaders to model humility and find ways to bring sustained peace to their people, long ravaged by war.
In February 2023, I was lucky enough to be there for the first ever Papal visit to South Sudan, still struggling to emerge from conflict. In almost 40-degree heat, and despite some pain with his knee, the 86-year-old Pope moved from one engagement to the next, through the capital, in a small white car. Footage of the car went viral on social media. South Sudanese were amazed at the contrast between this, and the large and heavily armed cavalcades carrying government officials that routinely travel through the dusty streets of the capital. In the heavily militarised context of South Sudan, this contrasting witness mattered an awful lot to ordinary people.
Given my previous experience nine years earlier on the cobblestones in the Vatican, knowing Pope Francis’ care for those at the margins of all societies, I wanted some of our South Sudanese, together with representatives from refugee and local Church communities in the border areas where we worked to meet with him. Amidst the usual impulse to prioritise high-powered diplomatic, UN and Church meetings during this short two-and-a-half-day visit, there was little support and no real prospect of it happening.
Yet, drawing on a good cross-community working relationship, including with the Vatican’s Representative in Juba, we were finally able to make it happen. We enabled equal numbers of men and women from across the JRS locations in South Sudan to travel far to be together in our small compound in the capital for these days. It was the first time out of their own county for many. By some miracle, our limited food and other resources were prepared and shared in a loaves and fishes type experience. Men and women from the extreme north and south of the country mingled and got to know each other. Into their midst also piled the South Sudanese Jesuits from other parts of the country. It was chaotic and wonderful, the kind of experience of human encounter that Pope Francis always encouraged.
The men and women who met with Pope Francis were excited to share how warm and gracious he was, how he prayed with and received traditional gifts from them, blessing 10-gallon drums of water that they asked him to bless, as they wanted to take holy water back home to other work colleagues, family and friends!
At 3am on the morning of the last day of the visit, we all left the compound by candlelight to join the crowds walking to where the final Mass was to take place. Since our normal nighttime curfew was 9pm-6am, with movement after dark very restricted, that was also a special experience. These were not normal days.
Together with the then Archbishop of Canterbury, Pope Francis encouraged everyone under the theme of the visit ‘that all may be one’. Both spoke courageously about the deficits in leadership within the country, named many injustices, condemned violence, and in a particular way the violence against women. Many South Sudanese were shocked and encouraged at their forthrightness in speaking this truth to power. It meant a lot and encouraged many to remain hopeful. It also challenged the leaders of the local Christian Churches to also step up their courage and their efforts. Many people at the heart of those events, conversations and prayers were changed in some way by them.
We all have our blind spots, and Pope Francis had his. Yet for me, this Pope went to the ends of the earth to live and love in a most courageous, compelling and fun-loving way. He inspired people to reject fear, not waste time on things that really do not matter, to develop their God-given gifts and bring them in service to the world, enjoying football and a glass of tequila along the way! Pope Francis showed an uncommon courage to work for a better vision for humanity, usually with a glint in his eye, always with conviction, fuelled by love and faith that deeper, better, fuller is possible. Always possible.