It began by acknowledging our sorrow. It is indeed sad when a Pope dies—the Church mourns the loss of Pope Francis’ leadership, his kindness, and his Christian witness. But, as with all good Christian funeral homilies, Cardinal Re quickly reframed that grief through the lens of our hope in Christ. We grieve, yes—but we do not grieve as those without hope. We are sustained by the certainty of faith: that death is not the end, but that, through the Resurrection of Christ, eternal life awaits all who place their trust in Him. That hope is for the Pope—and for each one of us.
You can find the full text of the homily online, but I want to share with you a powerful image that I did not include in the bulletin.
In his homily, Cardinal Re invoked the powerful image of the last time the world saw Pope Francis. Despite his serious ailments, and doctors telling him it was not a good idea, Pope Francis insisted on blessing the pilgrims in St. Peter’s Square on Easter Sunday.
What a powerful image of the Paschal Mystery—the Pope, imitating Christ in both his suffering and his service. And. what a fitting final image of Pope Francis: still serving, still giving, still loving the Church to the very end.
Cardinal Re then communicated the following, referencing the Gospel we just proclaimed today. He said, “We are enlightened and guided by the passage of the Gospel in which the very voice of Christ resounded, asking the first of the apostles: “Peter, do you love me more than these?” Peter’s answer was prompt and sincere: “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you!” Jesus then entrusted him with the great mission: “Feed my sheep.” This will be the constant task of Peter and his successors, a service of love in the footsteps of Christ, our master and lord, who “came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many”.
Notice how Cardinal Re gave a beautiful job description for Popes: the Pontificate is a service of love—a love of Christ’s flock, the Church, rooted in what must be the Pope’s personal love of Christ.
What a beautiful and fitting description of the papal office. The Pope does not Lord his authority over the Church. Rather, he is, as tradition calls him, the servant of the servants of God. The Pope serves the Church so that all people may come to know Christ and the salvation He won for us.
This coming Wednesday, the College of Cardinals will gather in the Sistine Chapel for the Papal Conclave. They will elect a new Pope, and we must pray for them—that the Holy Spirit will guide their deliberations and raise up a shepherd who will love and serve the Church with the heart of Christ.
From Peter to Pope Francis, every pope has faced unique challenges throughout the centuries—times of persecution, division, war, and scandal. By the end of the week, we will likely have a new Pope, and he too will face great challenges. That’s why we must pray for him—daily.
The Church prays for the Pope at every Mass, but we should also remember him in our personal prayers. One beautiful tradition is to offer the three extra Hail Marys at the end of the Rosary for the Pope and his intentions.
Praying for the Pope is important because of the enormous responsibility he bears: the visible sign of unity in the Church, the guardian of the apostolic faith, and the supreme shepherd of God’s people. As Christ said to Peter, “Feed my sheep,” the Pope is called to help the Church live out her mission in this unique moment in history—to give the Church what is truly good: the nourishment of God’s Word, the truth of the Gospel, and the visible witness of Christ’s love in the world.
So we pray pray for the Pope—that he may love and feed the flock of Christ with courage, clarity, and compassion—and not flee in the face of wolves.
But let us not forget: we too have heard the voice of Christ in the Gospel today. We too are asked, “Do you love me?” And if we dare to answer like Peter, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you,” then the command that follows is for us also: “Feed my sheep.”.
That command is not reserved only for popes and priests. It belongs to all of us—parents, teachers, workers, students, retirees, young and old alike. Each of us, through baptism, has been entrusted with a share in Christ’s mission. And so we are called, like Peter, to “put out into deep waters”—to go beyond what is safe or comfortable, and to live our faith with purpose.
What does that look like in daily life?
If you’re a parent, “feed my sheep” means teaching your children to pray, bringing them to Mass, and showing them what Christian love looks like in how you treat one another at home.
If you’re elderly, it might mean using your wisdom to encourage the younger generation, offering your suffering as intercession for the Church, or simply being a faithful presence at daily Mass and in prayer.
If you work in the world, it may mean acting with integrity in your business dealings, bringing compassion into conversations, or witnessing to your faith in subtle but sincere ways—making Christ known by how you carry yourself.
And for all of us, putting out into the deep might mean volunteering in the parish, reaching out to a lapsed Catholic, helping at the food pantry, or forgiving someone we’ve been reluctant to forgive.
The Church is not nourished by professionals alone. It is nourished by ordinary believers doing ordinary things with great love. That is how we "feed the sheep"—by making the Gospel visible in the way we live, love, and serve.
So yes, pray for the Pope—daily. But also ask the Lord: “How do you want me to love and feed today?”
Let our lives become a kind of blessing—like that final image of Pope Francis on Easter Sunday: frail perhaps, but faithful; worn, perhaps, but willing; quietly proclaiming by our actions that Christ is alive and still feeding His people through us.
“Do you love me?” Then feed my sheep. And put out into the deep for the glory of God and the salvation of souls.
