As the world reflects on the papacy of Pope Francis and honors his enduring legacy, it is essential to recognize his profound personal commitment to individuals with disabilities. His heartfelt words and actions serve as lasting reminders to actively embrace his call for genuine inclusion within the Church.
Like John Paul II, Pope Francis never hid his frailty. His public witness in his final weeks—and especially the last few days before his death—were of a determined man continuing his apostolic work despite his frailty. On Holy Thursday, just four days before he died, he went once again to visit inmates at Regina Coeli Prison. His appearance in St. Peter’s Basilica in casual dress on April 10 to pray at the tomb of Pope St. Pius X and to visit pilgrims might have given hope for his recovery. Even the pope’s meeting with Vice President Vance just a day before dying showed us that his failing body and wheelchair were no impediments to continuing his mission as the successor of Peter to the end. In choosing not to hide his vulnerability following his hospitalization, he lived what he taught: “Vulnerability is intrinsic to the essential nature of humanity.”
Throughout his pontificate, Pope Francis was consistent in his call to justice and mercy for all who are marginalized. His Holy Thursday visits to prisoners and his concern for migrants, the homeless, and the disabled were his teachings put into practice. In his address during a 2017 conference organized by the Pontifical Council for Promoting New Evangelization, he acknowledged that “great development . . . has been [made] over the course of recent decades with regard to disability,” but at the cultural level, there remained “a prevailing false understanding of life, [and] expressions that harm the dignity of these persons.”
Pope Francis spoke often about our “throwaway culture” that prefers abortion and euthanasia to love and a “utilitarian vision” that “leads not a few to consider persons with disabilities as marginal, without grasping their manifold human and spiritual richness.” He constantly reminded us by his words and actions—and especially in his encounters with persons with disabilities—that “the answer is always love.” Not a love that is merely sentimental but one that is “true, concrete, and respectful.” As he said in this same 2017 address, “To the extent that one is accepted and loved, included in the community and supported in looking to the future with confidence, the true path of life evolves and one experiences enduring happiness.”
He constantly reminded us by his words and actions—and especially in his encounters with persons with disabilities—that “the answer is always love.”
As the parent of a son with Down syndrome and in my work with Word on Fire, I long for the day when all people will realize, in Francis’ words, that “each person, with their gifts, limitations and even severe disabilities, can encounter Jesus on the journey and trustfully abandon themselves to Him. No physical or mental limitation should ever be an impediment to this encounter, because Christ’s face shines in the heart of each person.”
In his public speeches, Pope Francis often called us to greater concern for the vulnerable, poor, marginalized, and disabled, but he codified this call for a more just and compassionate society in his 2020 encyclical, Fratelli Tutti, where he specifically mentioned disability in three paragraphs. In paragraph 18, he condemned a “throwaway culture,” alluding to the crimes of killing the unborn, the elderly, and the infirm: “Some parts of our human family, it appears, can be readily sacrificed for the sake of others considered worthy of a carefree existence.” Consequently, “persons are no longer seen as a paramount value to be cared for and respected, especially when they are poor and disabled, ‘not yet useful’—like the unborn, or ‘no longer needed’—like the elderly.”
“Many persons with disabilities,” he wrote, “feel that they exist without belonging and without participating” in our communities. He cautioned that “much still prevents them from being fully enfranchised” and that “our concern should be not only to care for them, but also to ensure their ‘active participation’ in the civil and ecclesial community.” Knowing that can be “a demanding and even tiring process,” he was confident that if it is accomplished, it “will gradually contribute to the formation of consciences capable of acknowledging each individual as a unique and unrepeatable person” (98).
Francis reminded us in Fratelli Tutti that no limitation experienced in corporal existence can detract from the great dignity the disabled possess as human persons (107).
In 2019, the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith (now called the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith) explored the theme of human dignity in a new declaration that went through multiple revisions and took five years to complete: Dignitas Infinita. Concerned with the ambivalent ways the topic of human dignity was being considered in our culture, the intention was to renew our understanding through a document focused on the indispensable nature of the dignity of the human person in Christian anthropology. Pope Francis took particular interest in ensuring the document addressed specific themes, referred to as “grave violations of human dignity.” One of these was the “marginalization of people with disabilities” in paragraphs 53 and 54.
The introduction to the declaration made helpful distinctions to the language we have traditionally used to discuss human dignity. Christians have always understood that our dignity is derived from our creation in God’s image. However, while inherent in our nature as human persons, our dignity can also be compromised by the circumstances of our lives—something we have always called “attributed” dignity. Dignitas Infinita clarifies this “attributed” human dignity by assigning new categorical terms: moral, social, and existential dignity. Just as we can compromise our dignity as human persons (what Dignitas Infinita calls “moral” dignity) by grave sin, our dignity can also be compromised by the circumstances of our lives that are often beyond our control. Consider, for example, those who live in extreme poverty or suffer unemployment or disability. Think also of so many who are in an existential crisis—those who have lost hope because of mental illness, loneliness, addiction, chronic depression, or extreme and crippling anxiety. All disabling conditions may impact the subjective perception of the individual by others and one’s internal sense of worth.
In the paragraphs concerning disability, Dignitas Infinita states that conditions of vulnerability are often mentioned in the Gospels and even now carry “clear socio-cultural implications since some cultures tend to marginalize or even oppress individuals with disabilities, treating them as ‘rejects’.” The declaration reminds us that charity is “always a preferential love shown to those in greatest need.” We should always respond to “utter marginalization and anguish by bestowing dignity” and do what we can to “ensure that ‘everything [is] done to protect the status and dignity of the human person.’”
In his message for the International Day of Persons with Disabilities on November 20, 2021, Pope Francis introduced the evocative phrase “magisterium of fragility.” He said that “if heeded, [it] would make our society more humane and fraternal, enabling all of us to understand that happiness is bread that is not eaten alone.” He went on to say that “this magisterium of fragility is a charism by which you—dear sisters and brothers with disabilities—can enrich the Church. Your presence ‘may help transform the actual situations in which we live, making them more human and more welcoming.’”
The magisterium of Pope Francis in its final weeks was just such a “magisterium of fragility.” Unable to walk and barely able to speak, his magisterium was no longer about “making a mess” but about his frail and disabled body, teaching from his wheelchair by his example of the strength of love in fragility. His, in the end, was a magisterium that was indeed “true, concrete, and respectful.”