Let me say this first—I was born, baptized and raised as a Roman Catholic. I also attended parochial school for 12 years (yes, all of my pre-college education was inescapably based on Catholic teachings). So, I have some basis for what I am about to say. At the same time, by the time I was 19, only one year after my graduation, I completely eschewed the teachings of, and left, the Roman Catholic church as a member. Not necessary to detail why here, just trying to establish my bona fides for this article.

So, back to last week. I participated in a purely secular but lovely Easter Sunday dinner and visit with our extended family, held at my son’s in-law parents’ home. During the previous days, watching the news, I was particularly struck with the movements of Pope Francis. First, we saw him coming out to greet visitors in St. Peter’s, being wheeled in a wheelchair…with what appeared to be a small blanket or towel thrown over his chest, and without his white papal cassock or cap. He was also having oxygen administered through a small tube in his nose. Looking more like a hospital patient than the Pope, he clearly was not well.

Then, we received word on Holy Thursday that, although unable to wash the feet of the prisoners as he always had on that day, he nevertheless visited them in the nearby prison. The next report of his outings (that I saw) was on Easter Sunday, when he blessed the faithful from the papal balcony, and then took a ride among them, in his “pope mobile”. This was not a a typical ride, though. He was seated on a white armchair, not standing, as we were accustomed to seeing him.

The next day, Monday, as I turned on the news, I was taken aback when first I saw a picture of Pope Francis on the screen with the dates “1936-2025” below his name. “What happened?” I said aloud to myself. “Did the Pope die overnight?” Indeed, he had. His quiet body was discovered at about 7:30 a.m., Rome time, and he was pronounced dead at 7:35.

The first thing I thought was that he wanted to make it through Easter, and he had.

I still think that.

What surprised me next was how much the activities of the following week moved me.

I could not stay away from the news coverage of the updates on the Pope’s death, and then, the preparations for his funeral and burial.

Simultaneously with that, I experienced an intense feeling, all week long, that reminded me of the sensation of Love that I have when I receive Visitations from the Sacred (more information at ann.l.vivian.com). It was not identical to my other transcendental experiences, but as close as it comes. The big difference was that this was virtually non-stop—for a week.

Since then, I have been consistently thinking about what it was, about that week of news coverage of Pope Francis, that moved me so much. We have already acknowledged that I did not share the same theology as the pope, so what kept me entranced for that time? Why did I soak up every last minute of the news coverage and still feel wanting for more? Why was I feeling so connected to the life of this man?

This is what I think: I was not attracted to Pope Francis because of his beliefs. I was attracted to his behavior.

He would probably say that he comported himself the way he did because of his beliefs, and that may have been true for him. However, I would argue (even with him, if I had the chance) that his theological thinking is not necessary for everyone to behave as well as he did.

What am I talking about?

Since this is piece not intended to be an even short biography of Pope Francis, I will name but a few examples of how he comported himself that struck me so strongly.

The first is how he chose to live as pope. No pomp and circumstance for him! No red velvet vestments enhanced with ermine and gold thread; no papal miter—not even a gold ring or cross, that is part of the traditional pontifical garb. “Buena Serra” he said, upon greeting the people for the first time from the papal balcony. After a few more words and blessings, he asked the faithful to pray—for him. Not the other way around. He continued saying that until his dying night, it was reported.

He eschewed living in the Pontifical Apartments, and chose to live in the guest house that was built not that long ago by one of his predecessors, to house the cardinals and others as they would come to Rome on business with the Vatican, particularly for the Conclave to elect a new pope. Apparently, living in Casa Santa Marta also meant communal dining, something Francis enjoyed because he loved people so much. I heard a funny story of a priest (new to the Vatican, as I recall) who was waiting in line to use the microwave in the kitchen, when he was shocked to learn that he had been standing behind the Pope! I can only imagine how gracious Francis would have been under the circumstances.

Likewise, Francis rode around Rome in a small Ford Focus automobile, unlike the luxury cars of previous popes. News film footage of him riding in a tiny car, sandwiched in-between the behemoth black cars of his security personnel as he visited Philadelphia in 2015, was also amusing. He did not care, because he wanted to live like his flock. I must say, he looked very comfortable with the window rolled down, and his arm resting on it, as he waved to the people.

The poor and marginalized were his focus as pontiff, and he demonstrated repeatedly that he considered himself not better than they. As his namesake, St. Francis of Assisi, renounced all of his wealth to live in poverty in order to focus on the sick and poor, so did Pope Francis. He forsook his monthly salary of about $32,000, and donated it to the nearby shelter for food, clothing and other necessities.

It did not end there. His desire to live simply carried through right down to his funeral and burial plans. By now, you know that he chose to have a simple wooden (poplar?) coffin lined with zinc, not the elaborate types of more exotic wood and metal used previously for popes. His burial garments were simple, as well.

Finally, he chose not to be buried at St. Peter’s Basilica, which would have been typical, but at the Cathedral Santa Maria Maggiore, where he had visited 150 times during his papacy. He had a strong devotion to the Mother Mary, and he did not change that, even in death.

His tomb is stunning in its simplicity, with the inserted walls of Liguria Pearl-white marble, from the town of Francis’ birth. In the center back wall hangs an enlarged replica of the silver cross he wore, with an embossed figure of Jesus as a shepherd and his sheep below at his feet. On the horizontal marble gravestone at the base of the insert, is one Latin word:

FRANCISCUS.

As frail as he was, he celebrated Easter Sunday, April 20 as best he could, with his flock. Less than one full week later, he was buried. Simply and humbly to the end, as he wished it.

I said earlier that what resonated so much with me about Pope Francis was not his theology, but his behavior. Specifically, it was his humility that moved me so much. It would be an understatement to say that he “walked the talk”. In this day and age of so many people preening for the spotlight, I wish more would follow his example of caring for others, first. Surely, that would contribute to a better, and more peaceful, world.

Requiescat in Pace, Franciscus.