Angel of Humanity

The election had just ended. I felt afraid. Worried. Like I had stepped into a new world—one that felt unfamiliar, even though I had seen pieces of it before. As a child of the ’70s, I was born into a world where racism still existed, but it was also a world trying to heal. There was movement. Progress. There seemed to be real effort to right past wrongs. But here we were in 2024/2025, and we had elected a president who seemed determined to dismantle so much of what the Civil Rights leaders had fought for.

It was my first year teaching at Catholic University. I felt exposed, no longer within the sanctuary of Howard University, where I had space to grieve, to speak openly about what this moment meant for me as a Black woman. I felt anxious about returning to work. Catholic is a predominantly White institution, where conservative values are strong. And while conservatism and racism aren’t synonymous, in moments like this, it’s easy for fear to blur those lines.

The night before class, I sat finishing the reading for the next day’s lesson in my Cornerstone course, Transformative Texts. We were covering Fratelli Tutti. And after the emotional weight of the election, this text felt like balm to my soul. It reminded me of a higher calling—of who we belong to, and who we ultimately serve, no matter who sits in power. Even in my fear, I was reminded: “A friend loves at all times” (Proverbs 17:17). No matter what toxicity rises in our culture or politics, I must anchor myself in the character of God, a God whose love for humanity is unconditional.

And somehow, in that moment, I felt Pope Francis wrap his arms around me. I had never met him, but his words reached across the pages, and I felt comforted. I felt the Spirit of God whispering to me—reminding me of my duty to Him and to all people. I felt safe.

I thought of Augustine’s City of God, which reminds us that this world is not our home. Our eyes must remain fixed on the eternal, even as we navigate the pain and beauty of the present. I’ve followed Pope Francis since his election. He’s always stood out. Some have criticized him for his compassion, his inclusivity, his desire to touch everyone—and yet, he’s never wavered in his moral convictions. His voice has consistently been a steady presence against the chaos, a quiet but powerful counter to the noise.

In a time when hateful rhetoric was rising, his words always felt like light. He reminded the world—firmly, consistently—that we are called to love. To walk with the poor, the sick, the marginalized. That our faith should lead us to friendship, kindness, mercy.He canceled the hate not with more noise, but with love. He says,

Let us dream, then, as a single human family, as fellow travelers sharing the same flesh, as children of the same earth which is our common home, each of us bringing the richness of his or her beliefs and convictions, each of us with his or her own voice, brothers and sisters all.

Reading and discussing Fratelli Tutti at that moment in time lifted my mind to a higher place. No matter who holds earthly power, my KING is God—and His reign is rooted in a higher order, one that led Him to the cross. That same love must live in me, for all people. The words of Pope Francis became a kind of Polaris for me in those dark days—a guiding light for how to move through the world, how to relate to others with compassion and courage.

He called us to open our hearts to those who are different, writing, “The arrival of those who are different, coming from other ways of life and cultures, can be a gift…” He invited us into a vision of “social friendship,” where the struggles of one are never separate from the whole—where the pain of the poor and the forgotten is our pain too. To him, this wasn’t just a moral ideal, it was a political act. And at that moment, when I was wrestling with the political climate of America, this message grounded me.

Pope Francis empowered me with his vision of our human family. As I read his words, something inside me stirred: I can teach this. I can live this. I can be this. I am not powerless. Hope still remains. Through my love for others, I can still fight for what America could be. And as a professor, I can pass this vision on to my students.

That’s when I began to see Catholic University differently. I had assumed that Howard, my HBCU, would be the place of comfort, the sanctuary. Howard was just around the corner, and I yearned to be in that space, sharing my pain with my community. But maybe sitting in that grief and lamenting with others who identified with my struggle too long wouldn’t have been healing. Instead, I found myself in a space that reminded me—again and again—of God’s call to reflect His love into the world. What could have been bitterness, frustration and despair, Pope Francis turned into hope and vision. Though I never met Pope Francis in person, I felt his spirit surround me as I read in preparation for my class, and I felt him standing with me in the classroom. The clarity and the peace I found in Fratelli Tutti centered me. All that I had observed in Pope Francis before this moment, now made sense. Just as Christ sometimes challenged legalism in defense of LOVE, Pope Francis was simply trying to find a way for people to truly experience the unconditional love of Christ. He studied the life of Jesus and committed himself to reflecting that love to the world with boldness and compassion. Watching him do that inspired me to do the same.

Now, it’s our turn to carry that spirit forward. To reflect that same love to all of humankind. Rest in peace, my dear Angel of Humanity. May you rest in the arms of the One whose Spirit filled you, who led you to become an example for us all—a haven for those who felt unloved, unseen, unheard. You were my haven in the darkest of times and in you I found rest, peace and hope. Your presence was a gift. Your legacy is a call. My prayer is that whoever comes behind you, will continue your work of reflecting God’s unconditional love to the world.

Angel of Humanity

Angel of Humanity
You held me in your arms
Wiped my tears
Calmed my heart
And loved me

You could not see me
But I felt your love surround me
When the world seemed to choose hate
You were my Angel of Humanity
Whose light showed the way

No matter who was leading
Or popular
Or most valued
You did not care
You spoke God’s truth

You reminded us to love
As Jesus loved
You had a calling from above
To cancel the noise of hate
And we all rested in it

You did not require us to know you
Or even to believe
Your love extended to All
And we rested under your wings
Dear Angel of Humanity