Pope Francis lived the Beatitudes

Q: Archbishop J, do you think Pope Francis is a saint?

Yesterday, a friend sent me an image of Jesus and Pope Francis walking together on the clouds. The caption read: “Two friends heading home after Easter.” The image stirred hearts and sparked many reactions. One question arose: Do you think he is a saint? That is indeed a great question.

I remember facing this same question years ago regarding Archbishop Anthony Pantin. My belief that someone is a saint can precede the Church’s official declaration. The Church only begins the cause for sainthood if there is widespread belief that the person lived a holy life.

In the early Church, when a holy person died, the people would erupt in acclamation: “Santo Subito!”, “Saint now!” Sanctity was once recognised by the faithful’s spontaneous witness.

Over time, this evolved into a formalised process for discerning holiness. But the question remains deeply personal: How do we recognise sanctity?

The criterion of sanctity

To be declared a saint, a person must demonstrate heroic virtue. After death, one miracle is required for beatification, and a second for canonisation. But even before miracles, we can begin discerning holiness.

The Beatitudes (Matthew 5:3–11), Jesus’ most iconic teaching, is a good place to start. It offers a vision of holiness: blessed are the poor in spirit, those who mourn, the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers, the persecuted. This is what heroic virtue looks like. Let us reflect on Pope Francis’ life through this lens.

Poor in spirit

In his first interview in 2013, Pope Francis made a bold declaration: “I want a poor Church for the poor.” He chose to live simply, avoiding papal apartments, ornate vestments, and luxury vehicles. From the balcony at St Peter’s Basilica, his first words captivated the world:

“Now I would like to give my blessing. But first, I will ask a favour: before the bishop blesses his people, I ask you to pray to the Lord to bless me—the prayer of the people for the blessing of their bishop. Please pray for me in silence.”

His name said it all—Francis. Many assumed Francis Xavier, but it was Francis of Assisi, the saint of the poor. Cardinal Cláudio Hummes had whispered to him during the conclave: “Don’t forget the poor.” That phrase defined his mission.

Those who mourn

Pope Francis’ first official visit, as pope, was to Lampedusa in July 2013, where many migrants had drowned. He mourned with and for the powerless, the voiceless, the abused, the forgotten.

His pontificate was a lament for the world’s wounds: climate change, war, exclusion. Yet his voice was never one of despair. In Laudato Si’ and Fratelli Tutti, he mourned with hope.

In his final testament (page 5), he wrote: “The suffering that has marked the final part of my life, I offer to the Lord, for peace in the world and for fraternity among peoples.”

He offered the Church four verbs in response to suffering: welcome, protect, promote, and integrate. In Trinidad, during the 2018 migrant crisis, we tried to live by these words.

The meek

When asked about LGBT persons, he famously said: “Who am I to judge?” Such a statement from the Bishop of Rome showed extraordinary humility.

At the 2024 Synod on Synodality, Ecumenical Patriarch Job commented on the transformation of the papacy under Francis: from crowned authority to humble service. The Bishop of Rome, Francis, invited other Christian leaders into synodality, emptying himself of power.

He listened more than he spoke. And when he did speak, it was with compassion. Who could forget the image of him embracing a man covered in sores (page 9), or his silence in the face of fierce criticism? This is what meekness looks like.

Hunger and thirst for righteousness

At Lampedusa, he cried out against the “globalisation of indifference”. “Who has wept for these brothers and sisters?” he asked.

Pope Francis shed light on systemic injustice, challenged economies that exclude, and defended the voiceless.

In Laudato Si’, he declared, “The earth, our home, is beginning to look more and more like an immense pile of filth.”

In Evangelii Gaudium, (‘The Joy of the Gospel’) he denounced the “idolatry of money” and an “economy that kills”. He advocated for indigenous peoples, convened the Amazon Synod, and revised the Catechism of the Catholic Church to state the death penalty is inadmissible. These acts arose from a deep thirst for justice.

The merciful

This is, perhaps, his most defining characteristic. When asked who he was, he said: “I am a sinner whom the Lord looked upon with mercy.”

In 2016, he declared a Jubilee Year of Mercy. It wasn’t about condoning sin. It aimed to invite the world into grace. His insistence on mercy disturbed some, but he was firm: Mercy is the beating heart of the Church.

Pure in heart

Purity of heart means spiritual integrity — a gaze turned fully towards God. In Evangelii Gaudium, he invited us: “Learn to see the city with a contemplative gaze, a gaze of faith which sees God dwelling in its homes, in its streets and squares” (71).

Pope Francis challenged clericalism, spiritual worldliness, and ecclesial narcissism, urging the Church to become a field hospital: open, wounded, healing. His moral reform was courageous and often resisted. But it flowed from a heart anchored in God.

Peacemaker

For Pope Francis, peace was never political — it was Gospel. He said, “Peace is a daily commitment. It is homemade.” After visiting the Holy Land, he invited Israeli and Palestinian leaders to the Vatican to pray for peace. A prophetic gesture. Not negotiations — prayer.

In 2019, with Grand Imam Ahmad al-Tayyeb, the Pope co-signed Fratelli Tutti, a global call to fraternity in a time of division. He has reminded the world again and again: There are no winners in war. His voice, quiet and firm, has called for peace in Ukraine, Gaza, and elsewhere.

The persecuted

This is the easiest Beatitude to see in him. So many who call themselves “good Catholics” have mocked him, spread falsehoods, and accused him of heresy. He has been derided by voices within and outside the Church. And still, he remained steadfast. Like Jesus before the Pharisees, he stands misunderstood, choosing love over retaliation. He embodied what he preached.

And one more thing… Synodality

Perhaps Pope Francis’ greatest legacy is synodality — not just a structure, but a spiritual path. He has shifted the Church’s “operating system” from hierarchy to communion, command to conversation, dominance to discernment. Synodality is not a reform — it is a conversion. This contemplative, Spirit-led way of being Church will shape the next generation of disciples and leaders. For all these reasons, I would say “Santo Subito!”

Key Message:

Pope Francis lived the Beatitudes. They were not abstract ideals; they shaped every decision and his entire pastoral vision. His life bears the clear marks of sanctity.

Action Step:

Reflect prayerfully on the Beatitudes. Which of them are most alive in you? Which ones challenge you? Make one step this week to live more deeply in their spirit.

Scripture Reading:

Matthew 5:3–10