Pope Francis: a man of courage, a man of humour, a man of God

Very Rev Dr Derek Browning, who was Moderator of the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland in 2017 - 2018, recalls with fondness his meeting with Pope Francis in 2017.

A few hours before he died Pope Francis was on the balcony at the Vatican wishing everyone a Happy Easter. Wheel-chair-bound and visibly frail, Francis managed to speak the words that gave him, and many others, something of the joy and reassurance that faith can bring.

Tributes to him have come from many quarters.

Memories of the man who carried his own luggage; paid his own hotel bill after his election as Pope; washing the feet of women, prisoners, and Muslims in 2013 as a sign of his humility and their inclusion; visiting war zones, prisons and slums; concentrating on the reality of environmental catastrophe; speaking truth to power. Pope Francis rarely shied away from speaking out and speaking up. His was a ministry that went consistently to the frayed edges of the twenty-first century because it was there that he felt we would encounter those in greatest need, and the God Who had not forgotten them. This also meant speaking out against and apologising for areas in his own church's past in relation to the abuse of children and the poor treatment of women.

Memories of the man who spoke about his love of Mozart and his personal view that Mozart's Mass in C Minor, and its Et incarnatus est, "lifts you to God!" Set alongside, unsurprisingly as an Argentinian, his passion for Astor Piazzola's tangos.

During Pope Francis' pontificate the steadily improving relations between the Church of Scotland and the Roman Catholic Church in Scotland continued. In 2022 the St Margaret Declaration was signed by both Churches to make clear that the things the two Churches have in common are far greater than the things that divide them. Churches from all denominations across the world found in Pope Francis a committed advocate for honest unity in purpose and faith. Honestly recognising that much work continues to be needed to build and maintain bridges between faith communities, but being clear that at a local level, much that is good is well-rooted.

I had the privilege of spending time in Rome with Pope Francis in 2017. Going into his official apartments, I asked how much time we would have together an official said, "It'll either be five minutes and you'll talk about the weather in Scotland…or it will be longer." An hour and a half later the official had to come in to advise we had desperately overrun the timetable, and we were keeping another ecumenical visitor waiting. It turned out to be the Archbishop of Canterbury.

We talked about the role of women in the Church and Pope Francis was interested in the (slightly different) role of Deacon in the Church of Scotland. Deacons, first women and then men have played a part in the Church's life for over a century. The Pope had recently set up a commission to study the role of women deacons in the Early Christian Church.

We talked about national and international affairs, the ongoing crises in Myanmar and Israel-Palestine, and what mediating roles Christians might play. Francis was particularly interested in the Church of Scotland's active concern about issues relating to human trafficking and modern-day slavery and shared a concern about the fate of migrants and refugees, fleeing from their homes. I remember sharing with him our mutual commitment to work together in the face of national and international anxiety over sectarianism, anti-Semitism and Islamophobia, and saying, "If we are in a position of privilege, it is better to build a longer table than a higher fence."

One last memory. We exchanged gifts. He was rather taken with the food hamper I'd brought, particularly the shortbread and the malt whisky, "The Holy Water" he said. He was touched by the book about St Columba, and one of the prayers of Columba translated into Spanish. After our informal discussion we moved to the formal part of events, taking up seats at the far end of the room. As we sat down, I noticed him looking at my feet, and then pointing at my yellow socks with red polka dots. Twinkling he laughed and said, "These are not the socks of a Presbyterian!" A few days later on my return to Edinburgh I received a package from Gammarelli, the papal outfitters. It was a pair of knee-length red silk cardinal's stockings.

Pope Francis: a man of courage, a man of humour, a man of God, whose last public words were to wish the world a Happy Easter.