With the passing of the first Latin American Pope, Jorge Mario Bergoglio or more commonly known as Pope Francis, the Catholic Church is facing a moment of grief and mourning. The Church also stands at a critical juncture in history as its ability to reform and speak with moral clarity in a world fractured by political polarization and ethical uncertainty becomes increasingly challenging.
Despite the fierce opposition from the conservative corners of the church, Pope Francis was a spiritual leader who chose to lead with compassion over condemnation, creating a dialogue rather than focusing on dogma and prioritizing inclusion over exclusion. He met with trans Catholics, embraced the poor and famously said “Who am I to Judge?” when referring to the LGBTQ+ community — a phrase that went far beyond St. Peter’s Square.
Now that he is gone, the likelihood of the church reverting to a more conservative stance under a new pope is a major possibility. In a world dominated by divisive and often cruel politicians like President Donald J. Trump, the Catholic Church’s regression under a new pope would be disappointing and dangerous.
When Jorge Mario Bergoglio became Pope, he chose the name Francis. It was a symbolic and aspirational decision as he named himself after Saint Francis of Assisi, the patron saint of the poor, peace and care for creation. From the very beginning, his pontificate would be about compassion, humility and advocacy for the marginalized.
In many ways, Pope Francis lived up to that name and arguably exceeded it in his commitment to social justice and mercy. While it’s an informal tradition for new popes to take a new name to reflect the spirit they want to bring to the church, Francis’s choice was a clear and profound statement of his vision — one that now hangs in the balance.
The temptation for the Catholic Church to return to a more conservative path is undoubtedly strong, especially since the Vatican bureaucracy (Curia) has typically been more traditional and displayed an abundance of internal resistance to Francis’ reforms. Despite these concerns, there is some hope.
Pope Francis had reformed the Vatican Curia by appointing a significant majority of the cardinal electors. Of the 135 cardinals eligible to vote — those under 80 years of age — 108 were appointed by him. This means 80 percent of the electors eligible were chosen under a papacy that focused on peace, respect and mercy over rigid rules.
This matter is not only procedural, it’s profound in the sense that he created a framework that will hopefully keep being compassionate. Pope Francis’ efforts at decentralizing authority, his willingness to open more opportunities for women’s role in the church and openness with addressing controversial church issues, like married priests or blessing LGBTQ+ individuals, are considered radical to many in the hierarchy. Unfortunately, his passing could provide an opening for those who have waited patiently to turn the church’s direction back to an authoritarian style of leadership and theological hardness.
This would be a catastrophic mistake — not just for the church’s twenty-first-century global reputation, but for its moral leadership.
We are in an era where nationalism, xenophobia and political polarization are the currencies of influence. Figures like President Trump have reshaped political discourse by weaponizing fear, resentment, vengeance and false nostalgia under Make America Great Again (MAGA). In this climate, the work of spiritual leaders who preach unity, mercy and justice becomes essential as a coping mechanism against the atrocities people have endured.
Pope Francis was not perfect. His responses to abuse scandals were often criticized as too slow and inadequate, but he still stood as a voice of counterbalance for a world spinning to extremes. Despite maintaining the church’s rigid anti-abortion stance, Pope Francis introduced a limited but important reform by allowing priests to formally forgive abortions — a small step toward compassion in an institution still largely hostile to reproductive rights, and one that may not last without his influence.
Although Pope Francis wasn’t faultless, he did a lot of good by trying to create a more inclusive environment, social justice advocacy and climate advocacy. However, if the church elects a successor who prioritizes ritual and tradition over social justice, the institution risks becoming irrelevant to a generation seeking something beyond division and hatred.
Millennials and Generation Z (Gen Z) Catholics are already distancing themselves from the church, not because they lack faith, but because they crave faith that reflects reality. A church that doubles down on culture wars through policing gender identity, opposing LGBTQ+ inclusion or framing social justice as a political agenda instead of addressing bigger issues such as climate change, inequality and systemic racism is not a church of the people — it’s a museum. It preserves old traditions without adapting to the present, and it is more about protecting doctrine than serving people.
What’s more, the global South — home to the majority of today’s Catholics — has responded favorably to Pope Francis’s inclusive vision. Whether in Brazil, the Philippines or sub-Saharan Africa, Catholic communities are grappling with economic justice, authoritarian regimes and climate disasters. They want and need a church that speaks to their struggles, not one that recites catechism in Latin.
The danger of a conservative backslide is not simply theological — it is existential. If the church chooses ignorance over acceptance, it will not only alienate young Catholics but also undermine its potential as a peacemaker and moral voice in global affairs. The church has a following of 1.4 billion people, making it one of the most influential spiritual institutions in the world with a profound responsibility to lead with compassion, courage and relevance in the face of global crises.
Pope Francis understood that the Gospel is not an artifact to be preserved but a living call to love the marginalized, challenge the powerful and heal the broken. In that sense, his choice to take the name Francis feels especially fitting — a constant reminder of the humility, compassion and courage he sought to embody. Without him, that call risks becoming a whisper.
Now is the time for the College of the Cardinals to listen to each other and, most importantly, to the world. The next pope must be someone who can continue Pope Francis’ legacy of openness, advocacy and mercy. It should be someone who sees pastoral care not as a compromise of doctrine, but as its highest fulfillment. As political leaders are building walls rather than bridges, the Catholic Church cannot be an echo of the past. It must lead people into a more hopeful, just and compassionate future.
If the Catholic Church cannot be that voice, then what remains of its influence may wither not with persecution, but with irrelevance. And that may be the most tragic loss of all — the destruction of Pope Francis’ legacy.
