This week, Pope Francis crossed the veil.
For many, his death is a moment of profound mourning. For others, it's a quiet pause. And for those of us who walk different spiritual lineages, it is still a moment worth honoring—not because his path was ours, but because he stood as a reminder of something deeper: that real leadership and real spirituality can emerge in many forms, across all traditions, institutions, and ways of knowing.
There is no way around it: the Catholic Church has been, and continues to be, an institution marked by deep harm. It has colonized, silenced, shamed, and abused in the name of God. It has built wealth on the backs of the oppressed and excluded too many from its vision of the sacred. I do not look to the Church for my sense of truth, Spirit, or authority.
And yet.
Within that institution, Pope Francis chose to lead differently.
He chose to live simply, rejecting the palatial lifestyle of popes before him. He elevated care for the poor and vulnerable not just as a duty, but a spiritual imperative. He named climate change as a moral crisis. He condemned unbridled capitalism and greed. He softened the language of exclusion around LGBTQ+ people, and urged the world to show mercy instead of judgment. He washed the feet of the imprisoned and called on world leaders to welcome the stranger.
These aren’t just political statements. These are deeply spiritual (and magical) acts. Acts of choosing humility in a place that rewards grandeur. Of choosing tenderness in a world obsessed with power. Of using voice and platform to realign people with their humanity.
His theology is not mine. His church is not my home.
But his commitment to compassion, to justice, to the sacredness of all life—those are values we share.
It’s easy to write off leaders because of the systems they represent. But Francis made a different choice. He tried to use the machine to remind people of what mattered: care, humility, protection, love.
He wasn’t perfect. No one is.
But he walked with a kind of clarity and courage that I recognize. That I respect.
So today, I honor him.
Not as a saint. Not as a savior.
But as someone who, against the odds, tried to bring Spirit back to center stage.
Someone who made gentleness feel revolutionary again.
Someone who, in his own way, worked magic inside a system that rarely allows it.
May we all be so brave.
Photo by Ashwin Vaswani on Unsplash