By Gonny Pope Francis
The world pauses for a moment. A beloved leader of the Catholic Church has passed away. Pope Francis, the man who didn’t judge but embraced. Who didn’t point fingers but reached out his hand. And who, as the quote above beautifully shows, dared to say what many think but few say out loud.
He understood something essential: that God does not live in stone buildings but in hearts that choose love.
The Catholic Church has about 1.4 billion baptized members worldwide. That’s no small community. That’s a massive, influential force which, when guided by love, can help shift collective consciousness toward compassion and peace.
Not everyone finds their path through meditation, silence, or self-inquiry. Not everyone reads A Course in Miracles or listens to Mooji from a quiet cabin in the woods. But many people still long for direction. For certainty. For a bigger picture that says, if you do this, you’re on the right track. And in those cases, a loving church with a Pope like Francis can be a true anchor.
As long as people still believe that God rewards and punishes, that sin is “a thing,” and that good behavior earns you special favor, it remains vital that there’s a spiritual compass to guide them gently. A well-functioning church can offer just that, not through fear, but through love. Not through threats of damnation, but by igniting an inner flame.
Pope Francis reminded us of this. That you are not “holy” just because you attend church. That love doesn’t require a certificate, only an open heart. And that the heart of any true religion is not rules, it is relationship: with yourself, with others, and with what is greater than you.
A Course in Miracles and the Pope.
In the spirit of A Course in Miracles, we might say: “Nothing real can be threatened. Nothing unreal exists. Herein lies the peace of God.” Pope Francis seemed to know this intuitively. His leadership wasn’t about dogma, but about service. Not about hierarchy, but humility. He was, as ACIM would describe, a teacher of God, because he extended love, especially to those standing outside the church gates.
Perhaps this is a moment for renewal. For a church that doesn’t just open its doors, but lets its walls dissolve. For a collective that doesn’t just pray, but acts. Because if the Church truly chooses to stand for love, for all that we truly are , it can become a beacon in a world that feels lost.
Thank you, Pope Francis. For your courage, your compassion, and your quiet revolution of kindness.
You will live on in every heart that chooses love over judgment.
With love and light,
G.