On the Death of Pope Francis and the Dignity We Owe Every Human Life

Following the passing of Pope Francis, I have been disturbed not by the ensuing commentary but by some of the callousness and cruelty that emerged from certain ideological camps. After I made a simple and respectful post on social media about his passing, I encountered a series of unhinged, dehumanizing responses. Some came from self-proclaimed Christians, including Catholics, particularly from what some may dub as the “extreme Right” or non-religious people from the so-called “freedom” and “spiritual awakening” movements, and they resembled little more than digital grave dancing. 

One appalling image I encountered boldly declared: “Now that the Pope is dead, we will now have to listen to everyone glow about how good of a man he was. He was not a good man.” Others posted things like “Joy to the world, the pope is dead, let’s BBQ his head,” or simply, “GOODBYE!! One more evil gone.” This is not critique. This is not dissent. Such behavior is inhumanity.

Such reactions are no better than the vicious celebrations by far-Left ideologues at the death of Rush Limbaugh in 2021. The jubilation, memes, and grotesque glee that followed Limbaugh’s passing were rightly condemned as dehumanizing. But now we see the same tribalistic degradation from the other side, revealing a spiritual sickness that transcends political camps. Whether it’s wrapped in conservative rhetoric or progressive slogans, this behavior reflects the worst kind of moral and spiritual failure.

This is tribalism at its most degenerate: the reduction of a person’s life and legacy, whatever you may think of it, to a caricature, to an object of ridicule, to little more than matter in motion. It reveals a contempt for human dignity and a betrayal of the Gospel, which commands us not to rejoice at the death of our enemies but to pray for those who persecute us and to love those with whom we deeply disagree.

Let me be clear: I have been a vocal critic of Pope Francis. I have written extensively on my disagreements with him in articles, peer-reviewed journals, and in my book COVID-19: A Dystopian Delusion. In my academic article “Relinquishing Rights and Freedoms Under the Guise of Health Safety,” I challenged Francis’ alignment with the World Health Organization and the Vatican’s stance during the Covid crisis. To this day, I still stand by these criticisms, since these positions have confused the minds of the faithful and weakened the moral witness of the Church, even though they were not made ex cathedra.

Throughout the Covid fiasco, Pope Francis held private meetings with Albert Bourla, then CEO of Pfizer, and maintained an amicable relationship with Klaus Schwab, the now-retired head of the World Economic Forum. The WEF’s policies have undermined national sovereignty worldwide. These associations raise serious questions about the Vatican’s growing entanglement with globalist agendas. 

In 2020, Pope Francis sent a message to Klaus Schwab and the World Economic Forum that closely aligned with the forum’s secular and ecological language. It largely affirmed the WEF’s vision without significantly challenging its mistaken assumptions about human dignity and, as a result, subordinates the primacy of Christ and the Church to secular globalist concerns about sustainability and economic co-operation.

But disagreement must never give way to cruelty. Every good Christian should pray for the eternal rest of those who leave this world, especially someone who bore the office of the papacy, however imperfectly. Catholics must also pray for the next pope, who must shoulder the heavy burden of guiding Christ’s Church through troubled times. But disagreement must never give way to cruelty. Every good Christian should pray for the eternal rest of those who leave this world, especially someone who bore the office of the papacy, however imperfectly. Tweet This

Christians must pray for those with hardened hearts, especially those who callously celebrate death, lest they forget Christ’s warning: “Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone” (John 8:7).

These are not expressions of truth or courage. They are signs of spiritual and moral decay. They reveal a distorted anthropology, one that has forgotten the image of God in every human being, even in one’s fiercest opponent.

Pope Francis (1936–2025) now stands beyond earthly judgment. We cannot speculate on his eternal destiny; we can only entrust his soul to God’s mercy, recognize the gravity of death, and remember that one day we, too, will stand before the living God.

May we rise above the toxic currents of our time. May we all resist the temptation to reduce persons to mere ideologies. Let us not forget that the truest sign of the Christian witness lies not in how loudly we condemn but in how faithfully we love others, even unto death, even amid injustice and hatred. 

Requiem aeternam dona ei, Domine. Et lux perpetua luceat ei. Requiescat in pace.

(Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May he rest in peace.)