As the world marks the passing of Pope Francis and watches the familiar process to choose his successor, much discussion has focused on Francis’ life and legacy.
Most of the world’s communities were touched in some way by the Francis papacy, including the Jewish community. And with each community the connections were marked by dialogue, respect and a sense of shared humanity.
Francis’ commitment to Jewish-Catholic relations was more than simply doctrine or diplomacy; it was an extension of his faith, his humility and his belief in the transformative power of friendship.
From the very beginning of his papacy in 2013, Francis brought with him the sensibilities of a pastor and a neighbor. Born Jorge Mario Bergoglio in Buenos Aires, he carried with him decades of friendships with Jewish leaders, most notably Rabbi Abraham Skorka. Their relationship — marked by theological dialogue, mutual respect and even shared moments of prayer — set the tone for a papacy rooted in personal interactions rather than institutional formalities.
In his years as pope, Francis visited synagogues, honored Holocaust survivors and was clear in his condemnation of antisemitism. He reminded Christians of their deep Jewish roots and spoke often of the shared spiritual and ethical heritage that binds the two faiths.
He called antisemitism a “sin against God,” denouncing it with the same moral urgency he brought to other global concerns. His visit to the Rome synagogue in 2016 was more than symbolic; it was a gesture of kinship, where he proclaimed, “To attack Jews is antisemitism, but an outright attack on the state of Israel is also antisemitism.” In doing so, he acknowledged the evolving faces of hatred and stood firmly against them.
Even when confronted with difficult history, Francis did not back down. His decision to open the Vatican’s World War II-era archives — long requested by Jewish scholars and organizations — was a powerful act of transparency and courage. It spoke to his belief that reconciliation must be grounded in truth, no matter how uncomfortable that truth may be.
Many in the Jewish community were uncomfortable with Francis’ outspoken concern for the Palestinian people — and particularly with his criticism as civilian casualties mounted in the Gaza war. But even those statements centered on humanitarian concerns, rather than political ideology, as he urged Israelis and Palestinians to meet and engage with one another as he called for an end to hostilities.
The Francis papacy was not defined by grandeur, formality or power. It was defined by humility and by presence. Francis’ unyielding commitment to dialogue made him a rare bridge builder in a fractured world. He opened doors — through tone, symbolism and moral leadership. And he took progressive and controversial positions that frustrated many conservative leaders of the church. Indeed, that frustration may influence the choice of Francis’ successor.
The next pope may try to close some of the doors Francis opened or may choose an entirely new path. Either way, the Francis era has reshaped expectations of what papal leadership can look like when led by a man of the people who adjusted his message to meet the needs of a changing world.
