My Jewish husband's audience with Pope Francis

Pope Francis was a champion of interfaith dialogue - including, one time, with my husband

Pope Francis, who died today at age 88, was a leader in interreligious dialogue. The Vatican describes such interactions as a “way of life for him” adding that he saw “friendships across boundaries as a way of healing our wounded world.”

Several years before we met, my husband Greg - a Reform Jew - was invited to meet with Pope Francis, in his capacity as a Jewish American. It was a profound experience, and Greg recently wrote a reflection which he reposted this morning with some additional thoughts in light of Pope Francis’ death.

My husband, Greg, meeting Pope Francis at the Vatican in 2016, as part of a meeting focused on interfaith dialogue

I’m sharing it here with Greg’s permission:

I was sitting in my office one day in July 2016, when I received a text message from my Argentinian friend, Martin, asking if I had a moment for a telephone call. This didn’t strike me as entirely out of the blue – over the years Martin and I had spoken about legal issues associated with his business dealings in Miami, and on more than one occasion, I had referred him to attorney friends of mine more suited to assist. But this call was different.

He began, “as you know, the new Pope Francis was formerly the archbishop of Buenos Aires,” and he went on to describe how in that capacity he has championed an interfaith working group that included Martin’s rabbi. Flowing from this, when Pope Francis planned his first trip to Israel and the Middle East, he tapped his interfaith colleagues to help plan the trip and come along as participants. Anyway, Martin continued, the Pope is interested in continuing this working group, but this time with religious representatives from both North and South America, and he would be kicking off the effort with a symposium at the Vatican in September. Martin told me that he had been tapped with identifying participants, especially Jewish participants, and he wondered if I might like to attend as a Jewish American representative – we would have a two-day symposium on the Pope’s recent environmental encyclical, and then we would all have an audience with the Pope at the Vatican. He said, please think about it and let me know in a couple of days if you’re interested.

I hung up the phone, walked next door to my colleague Danae’s office, and said “I think I just received an invitation to go to Rome and meet with the Pope.”

“You have to go,” she exclaimed, and so I did.

Participating in this symposium and meeting Pope Francis stands as one of the highlights of my life. Pope Francis is in person exactly what he projects himself to be in the media. There is a warm glow about him. He has the most unique handshake of anyone I’ve met.

Even more important than merely participating in an audience with Pope Francis, is what he said to us. This was an eclectic group of Jews, Muslims, Protestants and Catholics. He spoke about his childhood in Buenos Aires and how he had been taught that the Catholic way was the only way, but that this thinking ended with him. He told us, we are all one world, and we need each other.

For those who are familiar with the history of the Catholic church and Jews, this was an extraordinary moment. People openly wept, I among them.

I turned to a young Rabbi from Mexico sitting next to me and said “did he just say what I heard him say.” The man, with wet eyes, responded, “he did.”

Later as we strolled past the Pope’s private chapel, the beautiful courtyards of the Vatican, the College of Cardinals, and the corps of Swiss Guards all dressed in their Michelangelo-styled uniforms, the Rabbi looked at me and mused, “if only our grandparents and great-grandparents could see where you and I are walking right now and what we witnessed today.”

Tragically, the world today does not live up to the Pope’s aspirations. Yet, I believe we can and will do better. I am so grateful to have been invited by Martin to participate in such an amazing event, and so grateful for the kindness that this particular religious leader showed not only at that moment, but during so many others throughout his long life.

Rest in peace Holy Father. May your memory truly be a blessing.