Pope Francis dies today at the age of 88

Pope Francis, born Jorge Mario Bergoglio in Buenos Aires, Argentina, died today at the age of 88. He will be remembered as a pope who tried to make the Catholic Church closer to the people – open, humane, and oriented towards the world, not closed in tradition.

From the moment he was elected in 2013, Francis was a mold-breaking pope. The first pope from Latin America. The first Jesuit. The first to choose the name Francis – after the humble saint from Assisi. It was a clear signal: this would be a pontificate focused on the poor, the marginalized, and the Earth.

A Voice for the Marginalized

Francis was a strong supporter of refugees and migrants, insisting that human dignity knows no borders. He called for greater empathy and solidarity, even when politics and public opinion moved in the opposite direction.

Not shying away from controversy, he opened the door for greater inclusion of women in the life of the Church – although he did not change the official position on their ordination, he placed women in important advisory positions in the Vatican, something that was previously almost unthinkable.

For LGBTQ+ individuals, he said: "Who am I to judge?" – a sentence that resonated globally as a symbol of a softer, less judgmental approach by the Church.

Pope Francis was also vocal when it came to the climate crisis. His encyclical Laudato si' became a call to the world to protect the planet and rethink an economy that sacrifices life for profit.

In his final years, he constantly called for peace – both in Gaza and in Ukraine. Neutral, but not passive, Francis used his moral authority to remind that the victims of conflicts are not numbers, but people.

With his death, the Catholic Church loses a figure whom many saw as the conscience of the institution. A man who was not afraid to speak out against injustices – within and outside the Church.

Pope Francis may not have transformed the Church to the extent some desired, but he certainly pushed the boundary of what was possible. He showed that even in the heart of an ancient and hierarchical institution, there can be a place for empathy, courage, and humanity.

Although not always followed by concrete institutional change, Pope Francis's symbolic gestures had a profound impact. When he washed the feet of Muslim refugees, women, and prisoners on Holy Thursday, he sent a message that is hard to ignore – a message that dignity is not reserved only for the "perfect" believers, but for every human being.

For many who feel excluded – whether due to sexuality, status, religion, or past – it was enough to hear someone in such a position say "God loves you as you are." Even when it didn't mean a change in Church teaching, it meant a change in tone. And in a world where judgment often comes before understanding, tone is sometimes everything.

Such moments don't just change the Church – they change lives. They provide space for hope, for dialogue, for a feeling that someone sees and hears them. Francis understood that sometimes, the most radical thing one can do is simply – offer a hand. And he did that, constantly.

Pope Francis did not dismantle the Catholic Church, but he stirred it. He did not erase the boundaries, but he shook the walls. With words, with gestures, with simple humanity – he made the possibility of change feel real. What was too much for some, was not enough for others. But precisely therein lies his influence – not in absolute results, but in opening up space for a new conversation.

At a time when religious institutions are increasingly seen as rigid and detached from reality, Francis showed that leadership can be empathetic, and authority – quiet and human. His death leaves a void, but also an obligation – not to close the space he opened, but to expand it.