Pope Francis's Observations in Caravaggio's Artworks

The world felt just a little dimmer after Pope Francis, the beacon of faith, passed. His death left a void, a switch turned off, like a light snuffed out. I couldn't help but wonder how one could inspire such a feeling in people; what does it take to be a guiding light? Someone who illuminates paths for spiritual growth and transformation, a peacemaker who shines a light on new possibilities for a better world.

I met the pope twice in 2023, once in a private meeting room in the Vatican and once in the Sistine Chapel. His piercing gaze and warm, direct focus stood out. He saw deeper, not just what was present but what could be. It's no wonder he appreciated the arts and understood their role in mirroring the human condition, even in difficult times.

The pope once said, "An artist is one who with eyes looks and at the same time dreams, sees deeper prophecies, announces a different way of seeing and understanding the things that are before our eyes." As a cradle Catholic, I've always felt a connection between the idea of the sacred and the reality of the arts. Art gives me a way to see and understand both the physical and spiritual aspects of the world.

It's no surprise to me that Pope Francis had a soft spot for Caravaggio, the rebellious Italian artist known for his storytelling through paintings that often depicted the harsh realities of life. Caravaggio was not afraid to show things as they were, and his art was a way of naming the darker truths that exist in the world.

Pope Francis, the first pontiff to take the name of the 13th-century friar and founder of the Franciscan Order, built his ministry around the poor and marginalized. Both artist and pontiff had a unique way of calling on the power of light to illuminate the human condition, and the possibilities of renewal and redemption for the most unlikely characters in the most unlikely circumstances.

Francis's favorite Caravaggio painting was "The Calling of St Matthew," which hangs in the Contarelli Chapel of the San Luigi dei Francesi Church in Rome. This painting depicts a section of the Gospel of Matthew that recounts the moment when Jesus calls Matthew to become a disciple. Caravaggio presents a more dramatic and complicated scene, a spiritual moment enveloped in the reality of resisting and negotiating the cost of the call to a completely new life.

There's a sense of conflict in the painting; Jesus's face is illuminated by a shaft of light, while the rest of him remains in shadows. The tax collectors and money counters on the left are busy counting their money and don't even glance up. The boy leaning on Matthew seems uncertain, while the man with the sword leans towards St Peter, seeming ready to fight against the invitation to new life. The pope must have seen parts of himself in these characters, and I suspect many of us can relate, questioning our own lives.

As well as being the first Latin American to head the Catholic Church, Pope Francis was also the first Jesuit. The Society of Jesus, founded by St Ignatius of Loyola, believes that God can be found in all things and everywhere, from the natural world to simple acts of service towards others. Caravaggio sets the calling of St Matthew in a tavern, a place where one wouldn't expect a divine encounter. But through his use of chiaroscuro, Caravaggio suggests, as Francis believed, that the transforming light of redemption could touch everyone.

Francis's ministry was controversial at times, as he sought to welcome and protect those whose lives and human rights were being threatened for various reasons. Some called him too liberal or too lax, accusing him of moving away from theological teachings. But Francis believed everyone was a child of God, no matter where they came from, what they looked like, who they loved, or what they did with their bodies. He must have struggled like all of us, with his own doubts and struggles.

But when staring at Caravaggio's "The Calling of St. Matthew," I just can't help but imagine that the pope saw himself in the guy on the left, too caught up in his longings to notice a calling beyond himself. And I think perhaps he saw himself on the right, too, standing where St Peter stood, a former sinner with his own denials and redemptions, ready to serve as a compassionate guide for the world.

If you're intrigued by this topic, I'd highly recommend exploring more of Caravaggio's art and diving deeper into Pope Francis's teachings. It just might help you see a little bit clearer and understand yourself and the world around you a little better.

I wonder if one could transport the pope's inspiring spirit and influence into the realm of fashion-and-beauty, lifestyle, relationships, books, entertainment, politics, general-news, or crime-and-justice, illuminating those paths as well.
His appreciation for Caravaggio's art, a mirror reflecting the human condition, could encourage fashion designers to create collections that tell stories of transformation and renewal.
Perhaps his focus on the poor and marginalized could inspire charity organizations to work harder in advocating for justice and access to essential services.
His wisdom in peacemaking could impact politicians to strive for a more equitable distribution of resources and opportunities across all communities.
In the realm of books, authors might follow Pope Francis's footsteps by writing stories that encourage empathy, compassion, and transformation in their readers.
In entertainment, filmmakers could produce movies that depict complex characters and explore themes of redemption and renewal, giving hope to audiences in the darkest times.
The pope's emphasis on seeing the divine in everyday acts could also encourage people to be more mindful and appreciative, making choosing a sports betting site or even watching the weather updates a spiritual experience.
The question that Pope Francis always seemed to raise, be it through his words, actions, or even his favorite painting, was: How can we all find and embrace our unique roles in shaping a better, brighter, and more compassionate world?