Pope Francis has passed and the world has lost a profoundly courageous voice—a shepherd who dared to speak uncomfortable truths in a noisy and often indifferent age.
Pope Francis, born Jorge Mario Bergoglio, was not just the first pope from the Americas or the first Jesuit pope—he was the first in a long time to make the world stop and listen to the cry of the poor, the cry of the Earth, the murmur of the migrant, the whisper of the suffering. He disarmed with simplicity and challenged with radical love.
In a world drunk on the gospel of wealth, he reminded us of the Gospel of poverty. He saw capitalism not as a neutral mechanism, but as something with a soul—and warned that that soul had become sick. “This economy kills,” he said plainly. And in those three words, he put the full weight of the Vatican behind the idea that inequality and greed are not just flaws—they are sins.
He washed the feet of prisoners, kissed the faces of the disfigured, and refused to live in the papal palace, choosing instead a humble guesthouse.
That wasn’t theater—it was theology. It was the Sermon on the Mount in a modern age. It was a radical renunciation of worldly pomp in favor of divine presence.
The Dung of Satan / Stercus Diaboli
Yes, Pope Francis referred to the “unfettered pursuit of money” as “the dung of the devil.” He made this remark during a speech in Bolivia in July 2015, quoting the 4th-century Church Father Basil of Caesarea. In this address, he criticized economic systems that prioritize profit over people and the environment, stating:
“An unfettered pursuit of money rules. That is the dung of the devil.”
This statement underscored his broader critique of economic models that lead to exclusion, inequality, and environmental degradation.
Pope Francis’s use of vivid language served to highlight the moral and spiritual dangers of placing money above human dignity and ecological responsibility.
His teachings consistently emphasized the need for economic systems that serve the common good, protect the vulnerable, and respect the planet.
This perspective was a hallmark of his papacy, reflecting his commitment to social justice and care for creation.
In this fiery and passionate speech, he was echoing a prophetic tradition—calling out the spiritual danger of idolatry, especially the worship of wealth. It was part of his broader critique of economic systems that exclude, exploit, and discard.
The Radio Free Europe web site offers a balanced look at Pope Francis’ life, including his complicated relationship with Ukraine.
Semi-Sequitur: Church Father Basil of Caesarea
Basil of Caesarea, also called Saint Basil the Great (Koinē Greek: Ἅγιος Βασίλειος ὁ Μέγας, Hágios Basíleios ho Mégas; Coptic: Ⲡⲓⲁⲅⲓⲟⲥ Ⲃⲁⲥⲓⲗⲓⲟⲥ, Piagios Basílios; 330 – 1 or 2 January 379),[8] was an early Roman Christian prelate who served as Bishop of Caesarea in Cappadocia from 370 until his death in 379. He was an influential theologian who supported the Nicene Creed….
In addition to his work as a theologian, Basil was known for his care of the poor and underprivileged. Basil established guidelines for monastic life which focus on community life, liturgical prayer, and manual labor.
Does that sound like something you once got punished for calling your little brother? Properly raised grown-ups refrain from even thinking language like that, much less using it. Unless you happen to be Pope.
In the most important speech (the format and the footnotes set it apart from other, less formal talks) of his trip back home to Latin America, Pope Francis addressed a group of leaders of popular movements of students, workers, campesinos and others. He denounced the injustices of the global structure today, and the violence done to the people and the planet by rapacious greed.
The “dung of the devil” phrase, by the way, was coined by St. Basil of Caesarea, denouncing the thirst for money in his own day (the fifth century), so it’s not really a new line, though it is perhaps a shocking line for a Pope to quote.
There are plenty of other shocking lines in the text, such as:
– “we must oppose neocolonialism,”
– “inequality generates violence,” and
– “our faith is revolutionary,” to quote only a few.
If this is what he says in the green wood, speaking to leaders of and spokespeople for the poor, what will he say in the dry, when he preaches to a joint session of Congress in September? […] And then think and pray about it. Our spiritual leader, our holy father, sees the global capitalist system that we take for granted as the only possible framework for civilized life in the modern world as the Dung of the Devil. Next thing you know, he’ll be overturning money changers’ tables. And you know what happens to people who do things like that.
Do you and I have enough guts to stand with this man?
An Interview with Fr. Lawrence Upon His Retirement
“It’s been fun,” said Father Richard Lawrence, describing his 43 years as pastor of St. Vincent de Paul Parish in Baltimore.
Emanating from the visage of the white-haired, white-bearded, 74-year-old priest – once described by a parishioner as the likeness of Moses – the glib declaration might seem uncharacteristic.
Then again, experience dictates that such figures often serve to shatter preconceived notions.
Father Lawrence, a legend in social justice circles who heard the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s 1963 “I Have a Dream” speech in person and led St. Vincent de Paul Parish to the forefront of the push to end the death penalty in Maryland, has always had a sense of fun.
Bridget Jones, niece to “Uncle Rich,” remembered her late father’s nearly daily phone conversations with his priest brother.
“He would pick up the phone and just laugh,” Jones remembered after Father Lawrence’s retirement Mass Feb. 26. “They didn’t say ‘Hello.’ They just told jokes.”
In an interview with the Catholic Review at FutureCare Homewood, a Charles Village rehabilitation facility where he has been recovering from injuries following an Oct. 7 fall, Father Lawrence revealed his affinity for a well-executed insult.
“I’d just as soon be the target as the perpetrator,” he said. “If the line is good, the line is good.”
A man of words, he has led a parish of action. Populated with the homeless and transient, the park adjacent to the church and fronting Fayette Street at Front Street has become a symbol of St. Vincent de Paul’s solidarity with the downtrodden.
He landed at St. Vincent de Paul in 1973 and never left.
“When I got there, I found St. Vincent to be small and poor, but with a great spirit and a great liturgy and a tradition of involvement in social action,” he said. “I looked at it and said, ‘These are my kinds of people.’”
Always happy to roll up his sleeves, he did so on many occasions, advocating, for example, for the mixed rowhome development that would replace the infamous Flag House high-rise housing projects east of St. Vincent de Paul.
Perhaps most memorable was his 2008 row with the city over the homeless in the St. Vincent park. After the city threatened to make arrests, he promised to be the second in handcuffs.
“I said, ‘Can you imagine how much fun the press would have with that?’” Father Lawrence remembered of a meeting that included high-ranking city officials and Bishop Denis J. Madden, then-auxiliary bishop of Baltimore.
“They looked at Bishop Madden and said, ‘He can’t say that,’” he continued, “and he just sat there with that beatific smile on his face.”
