Monday, May 19, 2025
I just returned from Pope Francis’s funeral. It was a great honor to be a member of the small official U.S. delegation. As his simple wooden coffin, marked by a plain cross, emerged into the Rome sunlight, a ripple of applause rose from the crowd — a spontaneous act of gratitude for a man who lived a life of service, humility and love.
As I stood there in the early-morning quiet, I found myself reflecting not just on the life of this extraordinary man, but on the lessons he and my faith teach — to love one another, to forgive one another, and not to judge one another. I recommitted myself to try and live by those values even as I know I will do so imperfectly. As I stood there, I prayed not only for those I love, but also for those with whom I struggle. That’s what Francis would have asked of me.
I also reflected on his example in demonstrating that humility matters, that dialogue is important, and that real leadership begins not by judging others, but by listening to and trying to understand them. Those are great lessons for today’s politics and government as well.
My wife, Helene, and I were fortunate to meet the pope in September 2023. He spoke with us, placed a zucchetto on his head, and then handed it to me. I clutched that small, circular cap tightly — a symbol of humility, of faith, and of an encounter that I will carry forever.
Francis was a rare moral voice in a world too often drowning in noise, division and hatred. He lived simply. He carried his own bags. He drove his own car. He slipped out at night to serve the poor, he visited prisoners, and called us to look for God in the face of the poor, the homeless and immigrants. He chose simplicity over pomp. His leadership wasn’t about power — it was about service.
When he addressed Congress in 2015, he challenged its members to seek a “renewal of the spirit of cooperation,” to recognize that dialogue and respect for differences are the foundations of a healthy society.
Today that spirit feels endangered. Too often, our politics rewards division over dialogue, and grandstanding over governing. Francis showed us another way — a path rooted in humility, service and courage.
As a member of Congress and a co-chair of the bipartisan Problem Solvers Caucus, I believe we must see this moment for what it is: an emergency. Not just of policies, but of principles. And Francis, more than any recent world figure, showed us what principled leadership could look like.
He believed in the hard work of human encounter. “In dialogue,” he once said, “everybody wins, and no one loses.” That idea has almost disappeared from today’s political vocabulary, replaced by bitter partisanship and permanent campaign warfare.
Democracy, at its core, is a discipline of compromise. It is not about party victory. It is about shared responsibility. And the Constitution we all swore to defend was built on exactly that ethic.
Francis famously asked, “Who am I to judge?” Those five words weren’t just a pastoral moment; they were a reminder that none of us holds all the answers, that understanding must supplant judgment. We need not agree with our political opponents, but we need to stop holding them in contempt.
Francis will no longer be here on Earth to nudge us forward anymore. But his example remains — a quiet but insistent call to do better, to be better.
And sometimes, that hard work simply begins with a small act: walking across the aisle.
Tom Suozzi represents the 3rd Congressional District.
