He's gone, but his legacy will remain—etched forever in a tapestry of love

Just a couple of days earlier, we bid farewell to the mortal remains of His Holiness, Pope Francis the First. Our hearts were extremely heavy, but then, we were also filled with profound gratitude for having walked alongside a shepherd of extraordinary humility and boundless love. We mourn the passing of our Holy Father, Pope Francis, a man who, in his earthly trek, walked like a humble colossus, mirroring the very essence of the teachings of our Lord Jesus Christ.

- BY DR B. J. C. PERERA

It is a practical impossibility for just a mere lesser mortal like me to encapsulate the spirit of such a soul within the confines imposed by words. However, I have to try, simply because his entire life was like a sacred homily in itself. He arrived, not as a king upon a throne, who travelled in a glittering chariot, but as a humble servant, a shepherd among his flock, a Bishop of Rome who chose the simple life. He chose to live in the Vatican Guesthouse rather than the luxurious papal apartments. He shunned the trappings of power, the gilded robes and ornate palaces, preferring the worn black shoes of a pilgrim and the simple white cassock of an unassuming priest. Then, when his job was done on Earth, he had elected to go away in a simple wooden coffin. His arrival without fanfare and his unpretentious departure are the beginning and the end of his magnificent contribution to the services dedicated to the Almighty.

He was a Jesuit, a member of a Catholic Religious Priestly Sect known for its intellectual rigour, spiritual depth, and humility. Yet for all that, he wore his intense learning lightly, preferring to use the language of the heart. He often spoke, not of doctrines and dogmas, but of mercy and compassion. His voice, though quite soft, carried the enormous weight of divine love, reaching even those who had strayed from the fold. He reminded us that the Church was not a fortress for the righteous, but a field hospital for the spiritually wounded, a welcoming refuge for the lost.