From the Rector…
Years ago, before Cardinal Bergoglio became Pope Francis—when he was still the Archbishop of Buenos Aires—my father would often see him riding the bus. As many of you know, my father was an expat who worked all over the world. He lived and worked in Argentina for several years, and during that time, he often commuted to work by bus. Apparently, he and Archbishop Bergoglio took the same route.
Pope Francis became known as the “People’s Pope.” He was often seen riding in his “Popemobile” around the Vatican or during visits to other countries. It was his habit to stop, bless children, and pray with women and those who were suffering. He reached out to migrants, members of the LGBTQ+ community, and survivors of sexual abuse within the Church. He consistently advocated for justice, even while upholding the more divisive doctrines of the Church. Though he maintained certain traditions, he seemed to prioritize relationships—working to find a path that honored both the individual and the Church’s teachings.
Pope Francis sought to understand people and to live and work among them—even as the highest figure in the Roman Catholic Church. When he was elected Pope, my father recalled his memories of this man. He had attended services where Archbishop Bergoglio presided over Mass, but what impressed him most was the Archbishop’s everyday connection to ordinary people. So it was no surprise to me that one of the pictures circulating in the media this week wasn’t just of Pope Francis in his white clericals, but also of Archbishop—and later Cardinal—Bergoglio riding the bus. There’s even a story from when he was first elected Pope about the Vatican having to stop him from using public transportation in Rome due to safety concerns.
When we think about leaders, celebrities, or famous figures, I often wonder what draws us to them—and what turns us away. Personally, I’m drawn to leaders with the kind of wisdom that can take the common experiences and sufferings of ordinary people and offer meaning and purpose. I’m sure others seek different qualities, but whatever we’re looking for, the ability to relate to someone matters.
Pope Francis was relatable. Though he worked at it, it also seemed to be an innate quality—something he cultivated within himself and his ministry. Each of us has the capacity to nurture the qualities we admire and aspire to. And yet, as the Apostle Paul wrote, we often “do that which we do not want to do.” In those moments, we don’t need to throw the baby out with the bathwater. Instead, we’re given the opportunity to grow and become more than we already are. Our mistakes make us human—and relatable—and they offer us the chance to become better.
I may never have ridden the bus with Pope Francis, but I’ve always felt a special kinship with him. One day, while riding the bus, my father asked the Archbishop for a blessing. Though my dad was an Episcopalian, he had been raised Roman Catholic and attended Catholic Mass in Argentina. The Archbishop blessed him right there on the bus. My father treasured that moment—and was not at all surprised when the Archbishop was later elected Pope. In my father’s words: “Here is a great man to everyman.”
May the soul of Jorge Mario Bergoglio, and the souls of all the departed, rest in peace.