*"Saber escuchar. A veces la velocidad del mundo moderno, lo frenético, nos impide escuchar bien lo que dice otra persona. Y cuando está a la mitad de su diálogo, ya lo interrumpimos y lo queremos contestar cuando todavía no termino de decir. No perder la capacidad de escuchar."*
Revisiting A Man of His Word after Pope Francis’s passing was a powerful experience. One of conviction, compassion, and a calm but persistent call to conscience.
I first watched the documentary in my sophomore year of high school at a theater in Doral with Angie (my Peer Ministry teacher), some of my classmates, my mom, and my abuelo. That Peer Ministry class was in charge of different service projects and retreats throughout the year. Watching the movie wasn’t part of the curriculum. If I remember correctly, it wasn’t even planned by the school. Angie organized the viewing herself because we went to a Jesuit school and, with the Pope being a Jesuit, and a man whose message she deeply admired, she thought it would be a good experience and invited our families to come along. She also viewed us all as her grandkids who she never had enough time with, so I’m sure that had something to do with it too. At the time, the film felt deeply significant. Watching it again now, it feels spiritual.
This isn’t a traditional documentary. It’s more like a conversation. One that moves slowly and deliberately, with Pope Francis speaking down the barrel of the camera, to us. When I first watched it, I was struck by how radically simple his message was. Mercy. Dignity. Accountability. As a high schooler, some of that felt lofty.
Sharing that first viewing with a teacher I admired, my peers, and my family made the experience personal. My abuelo, a man of quiet faith, and genuinely the kindest and most caring person I know, has always admired the Pope’s humility. My mom, a woman grounded in her faith, found even greater hope in his words during her long battle with Lupus and kidney failure around that time. A lot of my work and talks in that class and on those retreats had to do with the effects that her hospitalizations had on both her faith and my own, so it was a very emotional moment for me seeing her and Angie interact. Back in the classroom, Angie helped guide the discussions that planted seeds of reflection about real world events (in 2018.) that I’m still uncovering and unpacking years later. Our class, as a result, got closer and found a greater inspiration for the work we were doing and the direct impact we had.
Rewatching it now, as the world says goodbye to him, I realize the message wasn’t lofty at all. It was grounded. Human. Urgent. What stood out this time wasn’t just what the Pope said, but how he said it. He had this ability to say hard truths, whether it be about the climate, immigration, economics, or the bad actors in the church, in a stern but gentle way. To stand up to world leaders. To challenge power without rage. To comfort the poor without pity. His eyes and his expressions throughout carried the weight of the papacy, yes, but also something deeper: the weight of a simple man trying to practice what he preached.
Having grown up going to Catholic School until I was 18, I, like many my age and in that situation, have had some struggles when it comes to being Catholic. Not even with my faith necessarily, but with Catholicism itself. I’ve seen priests who I thought were a little detached from the messages I had always heard in the classroom. I’ve seen people, of my same faith, weaponize that faith to carry out policies, agendas, and ideologies that I was always taught were inhumane. Pope Francis was a man whose message was rooted not in those talking points that people are familiar with, but in the spirit of Jesus’s words and actions.
A Man of His Word reminds us of who Pope Francis was, not just as a world leader, not even as the leader of the Catholic Church, but as a man with a spirit that was deeply committed to a better, more loving world. Rewatching it after his passing felt like a reminder of the responsibility we all share, whether religious or secular, to live not just by our words, but by our actions.
And in that way, the film does what Francis always tried to do: it brings us closer to each other, closer to the golden rule, and closer to something greater than ourselves.
I hope we keep that spirit alive. QEPD.
*"Saber escuchar. A veces la velocidad del mundo moderno, lo frenético, nos impide escuchar bien lo que dice otra persona. Y cuando está a la mitad de su diálogo, ya lo interrumpimos y lo queremos contestar cuando todavía no termino de decir. No perder la capacidad de escuchar."*
Revisiting A Man of His Word after Pope Francis’s passing was a powerful experience. One of conviction, compassion, and a calm but persistent call to conscience.
I first watched the documentary in my sophomore year of high school at a theater in Doral with Angie (my Peer Ministry teacher), some of my classmates, my mom, and my abuelo. That Peer Ministry class was in charge of different service projects and retreats throughout the year. Watching the movie wasn’t part of the curriculum. If I remember correctly, it wasn’t even planned by the school. Angie organized the viewing herself because we went to a Jesuit school and, with the Pope being a Jesuit, and a man whose message she deeply admired, she thought it would be a good experience and invited our families to come along. She also viewed us all as her grandkids who she never had enough time with, so I’m sure that had something to do with it too. At the time, the film felt deeply significant. Watching it again now, it feels spiritual.
This isn’t a traditional documentary. It’s more like a conversation. One that moves slowly and deliberately, with Pope Francis speaking down the barrel of the camera, to us. When I first watched it, I was struck by how radically simple his message was. Mercy. Dignity. Accountability. As a high schooler, some of that felt lofty.
Sharing that first viewing with a teacher I admired, my peers, and my family made the experience personal. My abuelo, a man of quiet faith, and genuinely the kindest and most caring person I know, has always admired the Pope’s humility. My mom, a woman grounded in her faith, found even greater hope in his words during her long battle with Lupus and kidney failure around that time. A lot of my work and talks in that class and on those retreats had to do with the effects that her hospitalizations had on both her faith and my own, so it was a very emotional moment for me seeing her and Angie interact. Back in the classroom, Angie helped guide the discussions that planted seeds of reflection about real world events (in 2018.) that I’m still uncovering and unpacking years later. Our class, as a result, got closer and found a greater inspiration for the work we were doing and the direct impact we had.
Rewatching it now, as the world says goodbye to him, I realize the message wasn’t lofty at all. It was grounded. Human. Urgent. What stood out this time wasn’t just what the Pope said, but how he said it. He had this ability to say hard truths, whether it be about the climate, immigration, economics, or the bad actors in the church, in a stern but gentle way. To stand up to world leaders. To challenge power without rage. To comfort the poor without pity. His eyes and his expressions throughout carried the weight of the papacy, yes, but also something deeper: the weight of a simple man trying to practice what he preached.
Having grown up going to Catholic School until I was 18, I, like many my age and in that situation, have had some struggles when it comes to being Catholic. Not even with my faith necessarily, but with Catholicism itself. I’ve seen priests who I thought were a little detached from the messages I had always heard in the classroom. I’ve seen people, of my same faith, weaponize that faith to carry out policies, agendas, and ideologies that I was always taught were inhumane. Pope Francis was a man whose message was rooted not in those talking points that people are familiar with, but in the spirit of Jesus’s words and actions.
A Man of His Word reminds us of who Pope Francis was, not just as a world leader, not even as the leader of the Catholic Church, but as a man with a spirit that was deeply committed to a better, more loving world. Rewatching it after his passing felt like a reminder of the responsibility we all share, whether religious or secular, to live not just by our words, but by our actions.
And in that way, the film does what Francis always tried to do: it brings us closer to each other, closer to the golden rule, and closer to something greater than ourselves.
I hope we keep that spirit alive. QEPD.
