Not Catholic, Still Convicted: What the Black Church Can Learn From Pope Francis
I was raised Pentecostal, but educated Catholic from Pre-K — 12th grade. This wasn’t rare between both school or church.
Some of my fondest memories of elementary school were of me and my Pentecostal friends in religion class debating our teacher about praying to Mary, confessing to a priest, transubstantiation, and, of course, speaking in tongues.
Regardless of the disagreements in doctrine and tradition, I respected the reverence and seriousness of their faith. I mean, there weren’t many, if any, choices of Pentecostal schools I could’ve gone to, but plenty of options for good, even great, Catholic schools.
And when it came time to choose for my own children, I didn’t think twice about a Catholic school education.
When it comes down to a Pope, we don’t believe in a single earthly centralized spiritual authority…maybe 👀.
But, upon the death of Pope Francis today, there are some things we should all agree on…
Pope Francis didn’t just lead a church — he lived a life that looked like Jesus.
He was controversial because he cared about people who had less and looked different.
He walked among the poor, embraced the outcast, and made the marginalized central to his mission. In Argentina, he was known as the “slum bishop,” regularly visiting impoverished neighborhoods, walking barefoot in processions, and helping to expand local churches into community centers.
As pope, he called for “a church for the poor.” He urged us all to practice a faith that inspires action, saying the poor cannot keep waiting for justice and solidarity.
He was called many things — radical, reformer, traditionalist, liberal, bridge-builder — but the title that mattered most wasn’t given to him by the Vatican. It was earned on foot, in slums, in prisons, among migrants, beside the sick and the silenced: Servant.
And that should matter to us, the Black church.
You don’t have to agree with his doctrine to learn from his example.
He:
Washed feet.
Touched the sick.
Chose simplicity.
Visited prisons and called for the abolition of the death penalty.
Fought for the environment, naming climate change as a moral issue.
Humanized the LGBTQ+ community and supported pastoral care and civil union laws for them.
Condemned elevating clergy above the people they serve.
Opened doors for interfaith dialogue and refused to demonize questions.
Apologized for the Catholic Church’s role in sexual abuse and the abuse of Indigenous peoples.
He wept and worked for the world — not just for the church.
He modeled something many of our churches might need reminding of:
A faith that reaches outside of our walls
A humility that leads others to pay attention
A presence that reminds people of how our Savior lived
In many Black Pentecostal churches, we pride ourselves on vibrant worship, dynamic preaching, and strong community. We’ve mastered the art of order — who gets the mic, which Sundays are for what, and how the prophetic flows.
But Pope Francis’s life challenges us to ask: Are we also known for our commitment to the poor and marginalized? Are we stepping outside our sanctuaries to serve those in need?
His emphasis on the poor and overlooked brought renewed energy to justice work across the Catholic Church.
And in my spirit of healthy competition, we not about to let them out-serve us, are we?!
Our churches were built on active community engagement and societal change.
The Black church was never meant to be ornamental. We weren’t just here to decorate Sunday morning or add soul to a service.
We were the strategy room.
The rallying ground.
The place where prayer birthed protests, where sermons became manifestos.
Our ancestors built churches that could survive bullets, bombs, and backlash — because they were built on the conviction that Jesus came to change things.
Prophetic, Biblically, did not refer to foretelling events, but to publicly confront injustice, defend the oppressed and declare what the Lord says about a nation out of alignment with God’s way. Like Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Amos, it wasn’t comforting, it was confrontational.
But somewhere along the way, we shifted.
We traded our thunder for polish.
We became experts at programming, but hesitant to challenge power (although I’m really proud of us staying out of Target — LET’S GOOOO!).
We let titles outpace transformation.
We styled pulpits and stopped storming systems.
We are so often obsessed with how to do church, that we forget why we are the church. The aim was never performance — it was presence.
Because it doesn’t matter how many engagements you get to preach to believers, it matters how many opportunities you take to reach the broken, the overlooked, and the ones who stopped believing a long time ago, or never did.
His death reminds me that while some leaders are building platforms, others are building bridges. And bridges touch both sides. They carry weight. They’re walked on. They’re needed.
I’ve seen and see bridges in MLK, Rev. Dr. Prathia Hall, Rev. Dr. James Cone, Rev. Dr. Charlie Dates, Rev. Dr. Howard-John Wesley and Bishop Vashti McKenzie. And, I want to see more. I want to be more.
Pope Francis didn’t just remind the Catholic Church of its mission.
He reminded all of us what spiritual power should look like in public.
He didn’t just defend the poor — he went to them.
He didn’t just mention the marginalized — he centered them.
And in doing so, he made the Gospel visible.
It’s not too late to shift.
To widen our lens.
To pause our programs when the world is weeping.
To remember that the church was never meant to be a mirror — it was supposed to be a window.
We just have to become human again. No titles — just people.
Present again.
Available again.
Moving again.
Serving again.
His life reminds us that true faith is lived out through service, compassion, and a relentless commitment to justice.
Let us honor his legacy, but much more so His commission, by recommitting ourselves to the work of caring for the poor and outcast in our own communities. Let us be known not just for our worship, but by our witness.
The world is watching, and they clearly need an example. It could be you. Show them Jesus.
