In an age where comfort is prized and suffering is feared, Pope Francis has walked a radically different path. He has walked slowly, painfully, yet faithfully—with his boots on. More than just a pope, he has been a Pilgrim of Hope, embracing the weariness of the journey, bearing the weight of the Cross, and guiding the Church through the wilderness of this modern age.
And if it is true that God writes history not with ink, but with lives, then Pope Francis’ story is one penned with fidelity, humility, and a fierce love for the flock entrusted to him.
From the day he stepped out onto the balcony of St. Peter’s Basilica in 2013 with a simple greeting—”Buona sera”—to his ongoing mission of mercy, dialogue, and reform, Pope Francis has shown the heart of a shepherd, and the soul of a missionary. But perhaps more striking than his accomplishments is the how—the way he continues to fulfill his calling: with fidelity, courage, and great personal sacrifice. Pope Francis introduced a different tone—not of power, but of presence. “How I long for a Church that is poor and for the poor,” he said. And he meant it. From embracing the disfigured, visiting migrants, and championing the forgotten, to confronting corruption and reforming Church structures, he has lived out the Gospel not just in word, but in deed.
Even as his body has weakened, his resolve has never faltered. Despite chronic pain, sciatica, and mobility challenges that would compel many to retreat from public life, Pope Francis has kept his “boots on”—a phrase he once used to describe a shepherd’s commitment to remain close to the flock, no matter the terrain. His apostolic journeys have taken him to war zones, refugee camps, and peripheries where the Church’s presence is most needed. Not out of convenience or comfort, but out of love.
He has faced misunderstanding, criticism, and opposition—from within and outside the Church. And yet, his fidelity to the Gospel and his vocation as the Vicar of Christ has remained steadfast. He teaches not only through encyclicals and exhortations, but through the witness of a life poured out in service.
In his suffering, Pope Francis has become a living icon of the Cross—not for pity, but for purpose. He reminds us that hope is not optimism, but endurance; not escape from pain, but faithfulness in it. Through his tears, we see compassion. Through his limitations, we glimpse divine strength. Through his perseverance, we are reminded that holiness is not perfection—it is Love that keeps going.
And when that final day comes—when he lays down his staff and breathes his last—he will have done so with his boots on, walking every step of the way in fidelity to Christ, in service to humanity, and in hope that leads not to resignation, but resurrection.
Yet even more inspiring than his reforms is how he has lived this mission amid suffering. His declining health, limited mobility, and chronic pain have never stopped him from continuing the journey. His “boots” have remained on—symbolizing not comfort, but commitment. He has never stopped being a shepherd—walking with, speaking to, and praying for a wounded world.
And now, if his final breath should come—as providence would have it—on Easter Monday, it would not simply mark the end of a life, but the fulfillment of a mission. For Christians, Easter Monday is not just the day after the Resurrection; it is the beginning of the proclamation: Christ is Risen—go and tell the world! It is the day the Church moves from the tomb to the road, from silence to witness.
How fitting that this could be Pope Francis’ dies natalis—his true birthday into eternity. It would be as if heaven itself declared over him: Mission Accomplished. He ushered in the Easter joy of a Church renewed, reoriented toward the poor, and reawakened to its mission. He proclaimed the Resurrection not just in words, but in wounds—his own included.
To die on Easter Monday would be to enter eternal life at the very moment the Church begins living its mission anew. A final gesture of grace, closing the circle of a life faithfully lived.
Pope Francis has taught us that hope is not a slogan, but a journey. That the Gospel is not a message we preach from balconies, but a path we walk with our boots on, even when our steps are slow and our knees are weak.
Should his final day fall on Easter Monday, let it be known:
He rose, he walked, he endured, and he hoped—until the end.
And now, he rests. Mission accomplished.
Pope Francis, a true Pilgrim of Hope, thank you! Maraming, maraming salamat po, aming mahal na Santo Papa! by: Pedro Macatangay Sama sa Roma, Sama sa Dasal, A Faith & Culture Jubilee 2025 Celebration for the Global Filipino
