A Tribute to Pope Francis: THE Shepherd of Justice and Mercy
Your Holiness, Pope Francis, I write this tribute in your honour on behalf of all those whose lives were touched in various ways by your pontificate, which extended to all corners of the earth. From the sunbaked soil of the island of Lampedusa, where you wept over the nameless graves of drowned migrants, to the bullet-scarred streets of Bangui, where you became the first pope to enter an active warzone and where you dared to open a Holy Door amid gunfire, you walked where others feared to go. You were not just a pope for the Church universal; you were a father also to Africa.
A voice for the voiceless, you stood in places that the powerful ignored – among refugees drowned in the Mediterranean, among the displaced in South Sudan, among the forgotten in Congo’s forests and Nigeria’s Internally Displaced Persons (IDP) camps. When you kissed the feet of warring leaders in Juba, the world gasped – but we understood. You were pleading, like a parent at the bedside of feuding children, desperate for healing. From Lesbos to Lubumbashi, you condemned the “globalization of indifference”. When you entered the mosque in Bangui’s PK5 district, where Muslims and Christians stood side by side, you did not just make headlines – you carved a path of peace with your presence. You taught us that silence in the face of injustice is complicity, and that the Church must always speak, even with trembling lips. Your famous response on gay clergy – “Who am I to judge?” – was not a change in doctrine but a seismic shift in pastoral approach.
“Young Africans are not the future – they are the now of God!” you declared in Kinshasa, where dancing youth shook the foundations of the cathedral with joy. From Nairobi’s slums to Maputo’s rehabilitation centres, you honoured those society discarded – especially young women survivors of war and exploitation, whose feet you tenderly dried with your own hands on Maundy Thursday. You left us a legacy of humility and reform, choosing simplicity not as a gesture but as a lifestyle. You lived in a guesthouse, rode in a used Renault, and wore plain shoes worn thin by visits to prisons, orphanages, and refugee camps. You showed us Christ not in jewelled mitres but in the wrinkled feet of Rwandan genocide survivors, in the hard-skinned soles of South Sudanese mothers walking for water. As we light our candles from Cape Town to Cairo, we pledge to continue your revolution of tenderness – one pair of weary feet at a time.
You, like your predecessor, Pope Benedict XVI, saw great value in Africa and for this we are most grateful. During the opening of the Second Special Assembly for Africa of the Synod of Bishops (October 2009), Pope Benedict spoke of Africa as “the spiritual lung of humanity… a spiritual reserve for a humanity that appears to be in a crisis of faith and hope”. This metaphor emphasized Africa’s rich spiritual heritage and its potential to rejuvenate global faith. You, on your part, highlighted Africa’s environmental significance during your apostolic journey to the Democratic Republic of Congo in January 2023. You described the Congo rainforest as “one of the great green lungs of the world”, underscoring its vital role in global climate regulation and the need for its preservation. In a message during a 2022 audience, you said: “Africa is not only a continent rich in resources, but a spiritual lung, full of life and hope, despite suffering”. In this metaphor, you saw Africa as a source of spiritual vitality for the universal Church and as a continent where faith is lived with deep conviction and joy, even amid suffering. For all of this, we are most grateful.
Your Holiness, the virtual dialogue that you held on 1 November 2022 with over 1,000 African university students marked a historic moment in your papacy, reflecting your deep commitment to empowering the continent’s youth. In this encounter, you saw not only their energy but their theology – the depth of their questions, their longing for purpose, their thirst for justice. From Nairobi’s slums to Maputo’s seminaries, you nurtured their potential. You gave us more than words: you established the Pan-African Theological Commission and opened spaces for African scholars, proving that our theology should not echo foreign voices alone but speak in the rhythm of African drums, in the languages of ancestors and angels alike.
Your Holiness, you urged African youth to resist exploitative systems. You said, “We are raping the Earth because we want wealth. Deforestation is a crime against humanity. We aren’t fully aware of the environmental debt we are leaving to future generations”. You challenged them to combat environmental destruction and economic inequality and you inspired youth-led initiatives like reforestation projects and digital campaigns across Africa. You washed the feet of Muslim prisoners in Bouaké, HIV-positive mothers in Pretoria. When you shocked the world by washing the feet of young Muslim women in a Rome detention centre – some survivors of trafficking, all children of God – you did not just break protocol. You shattered centuries of exclusion, showing African women that their dignity mattered. Like Christ at the Last Supper, you chose not kings but refugees, not princes but prisoners, to receive this most intimate sacrament of service. You ate with the homeless in Dakar and listened – not as a pontiff, but as a brother. Your reforms – financial, structural, pastoral – were driven by a single desire: to make more room at Christ’s table. You did not just change the Vatican; you changed how the Church sees herself. You reminded us that holiness wears a towel, not a tiara. Even as your strength waned, your heart remained with Africa’s suffering – the displaced in Cabo Delgado, the hungry in the Sahel, the persecuted in the Horn.
May your soul, beloved Pope Francis, rest in the eternal embrace of the Servant King you so faithfully mirrored. And may your footsteps echo through every chapel, every village square, every wounded heart – until justice and mercy kiss, and Africa stands tall in the dawn of resurrection.
Most Rev. Joseph Osei-Bonsu
Emeritus Bishop of Konongo-Mampong
Mampong, 22 April 2025
