Like so many, I woke up on Monday to a flurry of texts and emails sharing news of the death of Pope Francis. After watching the videos of him in the popemobile bestowing joyful Easter greetings, I was thrilled to feel like he had finally come back to us after his long illness and hospitalization. I am stunned and I am sad—but more than anything, I am grateful.
I am the mother of four precious children, the oldest of whom is a 27-year-old member of the LGBTQ community. My gay son is an involved and engaged Catholic: he attends Mass every week, helps teach religious education to middle schoolers at his local parish and has a deep faith that guides most aspects of his life.
Even though I know this isn’t the case, he makes being Catholic look easy. Sometimes I wish I could say the same for myself. But as the mother of a gay child, I admit I sometimes struggle. It breaks my heart that he may not be able to have the big church wedding that his sister may have or that there may be priests or parishes that won’t welcome him wholeheartedly (or at all).
Unlike his mother, my son has never allowed his disappointment with the church’s position on LGBTQ issues conflict with either his connection to the institutional church or his relationship with Christ. His attitude is just that the church is the people—sometimes we get it right and sometimes we don’t. This non-judgemental and wise perspective is just one of the many reasons that I admire my beautiful, smart, faith-filled boy.
During Francis’s papacy, I felt (mostly) confident in my child’s (and thereby, my own) place in the church. While I wish that the Holy Father had been more supportive of same-sex relationships, as the loving relationships I have been privileged to see are powerful testaments to God’s love, I believed Francis when he stated that the Church was for “todos, todos, todos.” We are all children of God, worthy of love and acceptance and inclusion. The Holy Father not only proclaimed that ethos, he lived it and he encouraged others to live it as well. In doing so, he changed my relationship with the Church.
Following his lead, I came to understand intellectually and emotionally that the universal church Francis envisioned and fostered had room for every single one of us: my son, me and even those whose opinions are so different from our own. This lesson has shaped the way I participate in our church and helped me become a more accepting, thoughtful and charitable Catholic.
We are all children of God, worthy of love and acceptance and inclusion. The Holy Father lived this ethos and he encouraged others to live it as well.
As I look to the future and try to imagine our church without Francis’s compassionate leadership, I am praying for a pontiff that builds on all that has come before. My son’s perspective is a bit different.
He is sad because he loved Francis, but he is also confident in his own place in the church, so he isn’t nearly as anxious about who is next elected pope. He inspires me to feel the same way, but as a mother, it feels harder, because I want life to be easy for my beautiful child in every single way. So, I am hopeful that the humanity, dignity and value of every single person will be a priority for the next pope, and that people will be accepted and celebrated for who they are, for how God made them.
Later this year, my son and I will travel together to Rome, part of Outreach’s Jubilee Year pilgrimage. By the time we get there, the new pontiff, God willing, will be well-known and his vision for the church will have begun to be revealed. To be in this holy site, at this historic time with my beloved son, will be a meaningful experience, and I am grateful to be able to give him access to the warm, supportive Outreach community that will surely serve as a source of solidarity during the inevitable changes the new pontificate will bring.
What I am looking forward to most is joining my boy, other Outreach pilgrims and Catholics from across the world and across the ideological spectrum in walking together through the Holy Doors at St. Peter’s Basilica. At that moment, I anticipate that I will know and feel that the church is for todos, todos, todos and I will pray in thanksgiving to Pope Francis for that invaluable lesson.
