Jorge Bergoglio, the son of Piedmontese immigrants and then Archbishop of Buenos Aires, boarded a flight from Ezeiza on February 26, 2013, that would lead him—almost unexpectedly—towards an eternal destiny: the first Argentine and Latin American Pope in the history of the Catholic Church, in the history of humanity.

He never returned to Argentina, but in every speech and message, his previous life resonated—his culture, universal spirit, and the popular wisdom of our Argentina.

That March night in 2013, only the most astute could recognize his name in the Latin announcement. But it was a simple phrase—“Buona sera,” good evening—that immediately won over the Italian people to the Piedmontese man from Argentina.

No less striking, grand, and meaningful was his farewell just days ago. His final urbi et orbi walk among the people on Easter Day was broadcast across the globe to millions of people, both Catholics and non-Catholics—from “the ends of the earth” to all those he helped believe in spiritual rebirth.

His appearance and walk were a farewell from the earthly world with a symbolic force unique in the history of Christianity. At the moment when Christians celebrate the resurrection of Jesus Christ, Pope Francis chose to surrender to earthly death to reach another dimension, another rebirth.

“We are alone now.” That was the unanimous sentiment from voices across the secular world, from those who saw Francis as a global leader who practiced what he preached—values of a more just, united world.

The last global leader who upheld values built on constructing bridges to unite us—on integrating the equal—in contrast to today’s dominant ideologies based on destruction, exclusion of the unequal, barriers, and nationalism that isolates and divides.

As the first pope from the Global South, he shifted the Church's axis during his 12-year papacy. He pushed boundaries and expanded the Church’s horizon. That’s why, beyond the Vatican, the world deeply feels the loneliness of his departure.

The Argentine Jesuit forged his religious-political thinking with his hands in the mud of poverty, misery, and exploitation in nations previously seen as peripheral. He made 47 trips outside Italy to 66 countries: 20 to Europe, 14 to Asia, 9 to the Americas, and 4 to Africa. His 2024 visit to Papua New Guinea marked the first papal step in Oceania, achieving the historic milestone of visiting every continent.

On his very first trip, he made clear the path of his pilgrimage: Lampedusa, “Europe’s gateway.” Francis cast a wreath into the sea to honor those who died crossing the Mediterranean in search of a better life and denounced the “globalization of indifference.”

"With his humility and gestures—simple yet profound—embracing the sick, caring for the homeless, washing the feet of young prisoners—he shook us from complacency and reminded us of our moral obligations to God and one another."

These words by Barack Obama explain why Francis became a global leader far beyond the confines of the Catholic Church.

Francis, however, was primarily a spiritual leader, and his actions must be judged from that perspective.

Some well-known European media now claim that the Pope’s reforms were minor or even unrealized. But such views fail to recognize that Francis was not a political leader—his actions were carried out within the dynamics of the Catholic Church, not from the wider field of politics. He defended Gospel values that can certainly project into the political realm.

Pope Francis immediately renounced the Vatican's luxury and chose to live in a modest residence and travel in a simple car.

"If a person is gay and seeks God and has good will, who am I to judge?"—a question that broke with centuries of Church prejudice and punishment. It was followed by the blessing of same-sex couples and the possibility for divorced individuals to receive communion.

Under Francis, women began to gain more significant roles in the Church. In May 2019, French nun Nathalie Becquart was appointed to a key position in the Vatican as Undersecretary of the Synod of Bishops—the equivalent of an episcopal rank. For the first time in Catholic history, an Italian woman, Simona Brambilla, was appointed to head a dicastery (the equivalent of a ministry).

In June 2015, months before the COP21 in Paris, the Pope published the encyclical Laudato Si’, dedicated to ecology—a first in the Church’s history. A revolutionary commitment, not just to the Catholic world moving toward “ecological conversion,” but also to environmental activists. Faithful to his social mission, Francis emphasized the need to support poorer countries, the first to be affected by climate change.

Constantly challenged by radical opposition, the Argentine Pope leaves behind a legacy of milestones which, although seemingly incomplete, will allow the Church to move forward—and never go back.

The father of the poor, of the forgotten, the father of mercy, has passed. The Argentine Pope is gone.

Politics tried to reduce him to a small, human scale.

But time will help us understand the vast and infinite dimension of Francis—humble Jorge Bergoglio, who loved to stroll the streets of Buenos Aires, ride the subway, and walk across Plaza de Mayo.