
In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
Dear friends,
Exactly eleven years on this very day, I recall how deeply moved the entire world was to learn of the resignation of the venerable Pope Benedict XVI. His act of humility and retreat was almost unprecedented in the long history of the Catholic Church. And although the reason provided for this exceptional decision was the late Pope’s deteriorating health, I am convinced that it undoubtedly took immense spiritual strength to relinquish the administrative authority and ministry of the Roman pontiff.
Nevertheless, even more heartwarming moments awaited the world, which only a few days later would welcome the blessed and unforgettable election of Jorge Mario Bergoglio, then Archbishop of Buenos Aires in Argentina, by the papal conclave on March 13, 2013. The new Pope chose the name Francis in honor of the thirteenth-century mystic and poet of Assisi, who lived a life of poverty, preaching and philanthropy. This was the first time that a pope had assumed the name of this popular saint.
On that day, I confess that something genuine and inspiring stirred in my heart. I was convinced that Pope Francis—who subsequently proved himself to be a humble, compassionate, and visionary leader of his church—was quite different to anyone else in our world and in our age. Here was a man who truly understood God’s mercy, who cared for the vulnerable and who was committed to building bridges.
On that day, therefore, I was convinced that I should personally attend the inaugural Mass of the new pope at St. Peter’s Square, which was scheduled to take place on March 19, 2013. The truth is that I did not realize at the time that, as historians have since brought to our attention, it would be the first time ever that a primate of either the Eastern or Western Church would be physically present—rather than merely represented—at a public inauguration or formal installation of a Pope or Patriarch.
The days, months, and years that were to follow only affirmed and confirmed my original impression about my brother Francis. For longer than a decade now, he and I have stood side-by-side on many issues that burden our faithful, on many challenges that impact our society, and on many crises that plague our world.
Needless to say, both of us earnestly desire and work—through official theological conversation and dialogue as well as by means of informal and fraternal relations—for the unity of our two “sister churches” in fulfilment of our Lord’s prayer “that His disciples may be one (ut unum sint)” (John 17.21). Our aspiration and expectation is that we may together share in the Eucharist as the Body of Christ.
However, while we may not yet be able to share the common cup of Communion at the holy altar, we can at least kneel in repentance for the historical divisions between our two communions, as well as in prayer for the protection and salvation of the world. Indeed, we recognize that there is so much that we can jointly collaborate on and contribute to for the sake of comforting and caring for the people that make up the sacred Body of Christ and for the planet as the gift of creation that makes up the earthly Body of God. As you know, I have persistently and consistently advocated for creation care throughout our patriarchal ministry for over thirty years, which the Ecumenical Patriarchate has championed since 1989. And our beloved brother Pope Francis has emphasized the sacredness of creation in his own historic and extraordinary encyclical Laudato Si’ in 2015, where he acknowledges the leadership of our predecessor Demetrios.
Moreover, both of us also feel deeply responsible and even accountable for the poorest and marginalized among us, for those who experience vulnerability and pain—particularly innocent children and women—as a result of injustice and greed, but especially violence and war. This is precisely why we have come together to pray for the peace, such as when we jointly visited the Holy City of Jerusalem ten years ago, in 2014 (in commemoration of the 50th anniversary since the groundbreaking pilgrimage there of our predecessors Patriarch Athenagoras and Pope Paul VI). Only days later, His Holiness the Pope invited Israel’s President Shimon Peres, Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas and our Modesty to an invocation for peace in the Middle East and an interfaith ceremony of Jews, Christians and Muslims, when we also planted a tree in the Gardens of the Vatican.
In the same way, in 2016, we visited the Greek Island of Lesvos at the invitation of His Beatitude Archbishop Hieronymos of Athens and All Greece to demonstrate our mutual concern for the plight of the migrants and refugees. At the same time, we have repeatedly and agonizingly labored for peace in Ukraine and Northern Africa, where the ugly face of nationalism and racism has led to bloodshed among brothers and ethnic cleansing among civilians.
One might say that Pope Francis and I are on the same page. We share similar joys and sorrows; we care about similar priorities and concerns; and we both look to peace and justice among all people and on the planet—what both of us call “our community” and “our common home.”
As I congratulate my brother and friend Pope Francis on this wonderful anniversary, I also pray fervently and wholeheartedly that God may grant him health and strength—physical and spiritual—so that he may continue his invaluable ministry in our world. Ad multos annos, beloved brother!