Pope Francis and Easter

Dear Friend, I come to you with the sad news of the passing of our beloved Pope Francis.

I reflect on the opening line of this Easter Sunday morning Gospel John 20: 1-9 ‘On the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb early, while it was still dark, and saw that the stone had been taken away from the tomb’. The line marks a new beginning. Some theologians call it a new creation.

And I strongly believe that Pope Francis contributed to moving away the stone. Through his humility, his tireless call for mercy, and his unwavering focus on the poor and the marginalized, he helped remove the heavy burdens that often obscure the true face of Christ in the world.

He opened doors—of hearts, of dialogue, of hope. In many ways, he helped us see the empty tomb not as a place of loss, but as the threshold of resurrection, inviting us all into the radical love and joy of the Gospel.

In many ways, he expressed a wish to be remembered as the Pope of Hope—a hope rooted not in sentimentality, but in the fierce conviction that even in our darkest moments, God is at work. A hope in the midst of a world that so often appears to be on the brink of annihilation, torn by war, division, environmental collapse, and the erosion of human dignity.

His book Let Us Dream and his autobiography Life: My Story Through History (released as Hope in some editions) speak of a new path forward—a vision shaped by listening, discernment, and courageous action. In Let Us Dream, he reminds us that crises are not just moments of peril but also opportunities for profound change, where we can choose to emerge either better or worse. He invites us to ‘dream together,’ to reimagine the world not in isolation or fear, but as a community committed to justice, compassion, and peace.

Throughout his papacy, Pope Francis embodied this hopeful vision. Whether washing the feet of prisoners, weeping with refugees, or calling for care of our common home, he consistently pointed us beyond despair. He believed that the Church must be a field hospital—close to the wounded, tender in its mercy, and bold in its proclamation of the Risen Christ.

To remember him as the Pope of Hope is to take up that call ourselves: to dream, to heal, and to love in the name of the One who has rolled away the stone and overcome the grave. I invite you to join me in working to change this world, each in our own unique way.

Let us accept Pope Francis’ challenge to “dream big dreams” and to work tirelessly—each in our own way—to build bridges where there are walls, to sow peace where there is division, to bring light where there is darkness, and change what needs to be changed.