When Jorge Mario Bergoglio stepped onto the balcony of St. Peter’s Basilica on March 13, 2013, he did so as the first pope from the Americas. He was also the first Jesuit. He took the name Francis, after a saint known for poverty and simplicity. That choice signaled a break. Now, with his death on April 21, 2025, the Catholic Church faces a future without the man who tried to reshape its priorities.
The immediate question is succession. The papal conclave that elected Bergoglio in 2013 was a surprise. He was 76, a cardinal from Argentina, and not the frontrunner. The next conclave will be different. The College of Cardinals is now largely composed of men Francis appointed. They share his concerns for the poor, migrants, and refugees. But they also inherit a church divided. Conservatives resisted his emphasis on mercy over doctrine. Progressives wanted faster change on women’s roles and LGBTQ inclusion. Francis made women and laymen full members of dicasteries in the Roman Curia. That reform is now institutional, but its future depends on the next pope.
Bergoglio’s path to the papacy began in Buenos Aires. Born December 17, 1936, to Italian immigrants, he nearly died of a severe illness in 1958. That recovery drove him to the Jesuits. He was ordained a priest in 1969. He served as Jesuit provincial superior in Argentina from 1973 to 1979, a period of brutal dictatorship. Those years shaped his pastoral style. He became archbishop of Buenos Aires in 1998. Pope John Paul II made him a cardinal in 2001.
His election in 2013 broke a long pattern. He was the first pope born or raised outside Europe since the Syrian Gregory III in the 8th century. That geographic shift mattered. Francis made the global south central to his vision. He visited refugee camps. He washed the feet of prisoners and migrants. He called for a church that was a “field hospital” for the wounded. His international visibility was enormous. He was a beloved figure to many, a polarizing one to others.
The effects of his papacy are already visible. Catholic charities and dioceses worldwide have reoriented toward service to migrants and the poor. Interreligious dialogue, a hallmark of his tenure, is now embedded in Vatican practice. But structural changes remain incomplete. The reform of the Roman Curia, which Francis pushed, is ongoing. The role of women in church governance has expanded but not to the diaconate or priesthood. The next pope may accelerate or reverse these trends.
For the faithful, the loss is personal. Francis was a pope who lived simply. He chose to stay in the Santa Marta residence rather than the papal apartments. He drove a modest car. He asked people to pray for him, not to him. His humility was not a pose. It was a constant thread from his choice of papal name to his final acts.
The Catholic Church is now in transition. The conclave will meet. The cardinals will deliberate. They will choose a successor. That person will inherit a church Francis reshaped but did not fully remake. The poor, the migrants, the refugees — the people Francis made central to the church’s mission — remain. Their needs do not pause for a papal election. The next pope will have to decide how to meet them.
