Minnesota Catholics mourn Pope Francis and his ‘gospel of mercy’

Hundreds of parishioners sat shoulder to shoulder at the Cathedral of St. Paul for a noontime Mass on Monday, joining millions around the world in grieving Pope Francis.

“From the beginning of [Francis’] pontificate, he preached that gospel of mercy,” Archbishop Bernard Hebda of the Archdiocese of St. Paul and Minneapolis told the mourners, flanked by more than a dozen priests. “There was also ... a gospel of joy.”

Hebda, who was named archbishop of St. Paul and Minneapolis by Francis in 2016, said he had met the pope “more times” than he could count. He remembered how Francis called for prayers in the civil unrest following the murder of George Floyd in 2020.

After the noon service, Hebda said that “all kinds of people” are mourning the death of the charismatic 88-year-old Argentinian, often celebrated as a beacon for migrants and those on the margins.

The first text message Hebda received Monday morning, he said, came from a person in the LGBTQ community.

“He spoke about how painful it was for him for Pope Francis to pass,” Hebda said.

The Catholic Church has a large presence in Minnesota, second only in Christian membership to Lutherans.

Across the state on Monday, remembrances of the pontiff emerged. Before noon on Monday, bells chimed at the Basilica of St. Mary in downtown Minneapolis.

The Rev. Daniel Griffith, the pastor and rector, recounted the first trip of Francis’ papacy was to the Italian port city of Lampedusa, where migrants arrive from points south.

“We saw that face of God reflected in [Francis],” Griffith said. “His wide embrace of all people, his inclusive message of God’s love.”

Michael Patella, a Benedictine monk and former rector of the seminary at St. John’s Abbey in Collegeville in central Minnesota, talked about the power of the pope’s messages.

“He was the son of immigrants,” Patella said, referring to Francis’ Italian father. “So when he spoke about immigration, he would speak from personal experience.”

Bishop Robert Barron of the Diocese of Winona-Rochester in southeastern Minnesota told MSNBC that he remembered Francis as a “man of simplicity, compassion and deep concern for those on the margins” of society. He asked for prayers for the cardinals who will gather soon to choose Francis’ successor.

Dan Doyle called it shocking that Francis so quickly moved from “a public presence to passing.”

“I had non-Catholic friends talking about him,” said Doyle, who attended a morning Mass at the cathedral. “He was a voice and presence that helped all believers.”

Abigail Fasinski of St. Paul, also at the morning service, said his death was “very sad.”

“He had done a lot for the church. He paved the way and showed a new side of the church, especially with social justice. Everyone in the church will be feeling very deeply today,” she said.

Often, Kunst said, Francis’ unfettered access to the media could lend confusion or ambiguity to the church’s public positions.

“I’d get emails and phone calls from people [saying], ‘What the heck is the pope saying this for?’” Kunst said. “So I found myself ... kind of clarifying things.”

Anne Cullen Miller, president of the Catholic Community Foundation of Minnesota, said Pope Francis “reminded us every day to care for each other, especially the poor, our environment [and] those living in desperate situations, whether it be from war, hunger or being invisible within their own families or communities.”

The pope made it easy to understand how to live in community, Cullen Miller said. “He preached love, he lived love.”

Tim Marx, former CEO of Catholic Charities, said Pope Francis was a breath of fresh air whose death presents an inflection point for the church.

“That was personally moving to me to hear his speech, his call to action and to characterize the church as a field hospital for the poor,” Marx said. “It inspired me and so many others across the country and across the globe to continue that effort, knowing that that support was there.”

Following midday Mass at the cathedral, Lisa Marrone lingered near Francis’ portrait. She said she got “the Holy Spirit bumps” just talking about Francis.

“He reminded me of just a regular person,” said Marrone, who grew up in a Catholic family but only joined the church a dozen years ago. “At first I didn’t know what to expect, but I grew to embrace him.”