Easter in the City of Saint Francis

Oh, Pope Francis. What timing! Of course, we were just talking about you, which doesn't happen that much around here. 

This Easter, as with all so far except those cancelled by COVID, included our annual outing to Hunky Jesus. My eldest has never known an Easter without drag queens, and so each Easter morning I have my little sermon: 

I remind him about the biblical story of Jesus, and the pagan elements of spring's resurrection from winter's apparent death, how bunnies and eggs got involved with empty tombs and whatnot. Then I talk about the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, and how they stand up for what's right, after explaining about nuns being female priests in Catholicism. 

Since my kiddo is getting to be old enough to understand more and more of the swirling complexities and imperfections of the adult world, I filled in some details this year about how the AIDS crisis made a lot of people in our city very sick, and that so many died. I explained that, even though a lot of religious people talk about love, that the people that were sick and dying from AIDS were often alone when they most needed family and love, and that's part of the work the Sisters still do. 

I also had to explain popes, and said they are basically the kings of the Catholic church, but sometimes there's a really good one. And I said that we were lucky to have a good one right now, who was trying to stand up for what is right in lots of ways, too. 

Then we spent the day in joy and also kind of peaceful protest as well as celebration with our friends in the park, as colorful nuns organized photos with the Easter bunny and games for children before more adult festivities rolled on in the afternoon. Hunky Jesus seems to always guarantee gorgeous weather, and everyone sparkles in that glorious sunshine while the music plays and the park thumps with music and mischief. 

And then, I woke up this morning to the news that Pope Francis had delivered one last Easter blessing, shaded our shady vice president, and then passed. 

Obviously, I am a heathen. There's no need to correct me on matters of dogma, it's not my thing. There were a million areas where we would not have agreed, I’m sure. But with the vast weight and reach of his position, he tried to move an enormous structure of power and prayer in our world toward more acceptance and understanding. I will miss his huge counterweight against the forces of craven self-interest that particularly govern this country right now. 

In his absence, who will speak for the migrant? Who will embrace non-judgement in the face of traditions that demand old oppressions? 

Honestly, it will have to be all of us. Who knows what comes next, or what change in leadership follows? We'll have to resolve to embody radical kindness and inclusion ourselves to transform the world around us. 

It sure does matter that we speak up, though. Thank you, Pope Francis, for sharing your fumbling path with us, imperfections and all, as you tried to take an ancient thing and make it work more in service of compassion and care for people here right now than it had before. I'm sorry to see you go.