I wrote the following reflection for Give Us This Day late last year, and it has been published in next month’s May 2025 issue.
Pope Francis died on Easter Monday of this week, and he was such an inspiration to me and my ministry. Given that I’m still processing all he meant to me, the church, and the world, I thought it’d be fitting to share this reflection a little early.
Requiem aeternam dona ei, Domine, et lux perpetua luceat eis. Requiescant in pace, Franciscus.
Jesus’ words to his disciples, some of his very last, must have been bitter at the hearing: “I am going to the one who sent me… because I told you this, grief has filled your hearts.” Their friend, their master, their savior, is preparing to die in a most violent and humiliating manner. Whose heart wouldn’t be filled with grief?
Jesus’ life was a “sign of contradiction,” one that was violently opposed by the religious, political, and economic rulers of his day. The easy life of pursuing power and profit will always be in contention with the Christian life, which calls us to imitate Christ in his poverty, vulnerability, and humility.
But it also encourages us to imitate Christ in his power. And that power is the very power of God the Father and God the Spirit, the One to Whom Christ is returning and the One who is sent to dwell within us, “closer to us than we are to ourselves,” to paraphrase St. Augustine, whose feast day we celebrate today.
We see this power at work in Paul and Silas, who are stripped, beaten, and thrown into prison. When freed from bondage, they don’t run away, they stay to save the life of their jailer.
That’s the power of God at work, the “superior power of God’s defenseless vulnerability” to quote theologian Edward Schillebeeckx. Or feel free to call it the power of love, which transforms everything: you, me, and even our enemies.
Michael J. Sanem, from the May 2025 issue of Give Us This Day, http://www.giveusthisday.org
(Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2024). Used with permission.
