“Pope Francis, May His Memory be a Blessing” by Rabbi Burt Visotzky
April 23, 2025
Rabbi Burt Visotzky, PhD, Director, Milstein Center for Interreligious Dialogue, shares a reflection after the death of Pope Francis. Rabbi Visotzky had the honor of meeting Pope Francis on multiple occasions and has participated in several multi-faith events and initiatives hosted by Pope Francis and the Catholic Church.

Jorge Mario Bergoglio was born in Buenos Aires in 1936, and eventually served as the archbishop there (1998–2013). During his time leading the Catholic community of Argentina, he befriended Rabbi Abraham Skorka, who was then Rector of JTS’s sister-institution, the Seminario Rabinico Latinoamericano in Buenos Aires. As can only happen among men of a certain age, they bonded over their love for soccer, and the fact that each rooted for a rival team. It was, as they say, “the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
Once, when I was in Argentina teaching at the Seminario, Rabbi Skorka told me about a visit he had in Rome, after Bergoglio became Pope. Francis invited the rabbi for a meal. Rabbi Skorka assented and they shared a dairy dinner at Santa Marta, where the Holy Father humbly dwelt among the bishops in Rome. Skorka explained to the Pope that the day they were dining was a Jewish holiday, and he needed to say Kiddush. The Pope agreed to follow the rabbi’s lead. So, when Rabbi Skorka rose, the Pope rose. Of course, when the Pope rose, all the bishops who filled the dining hall also rose for Kiddush. When Rabbi Skorka finished his blessing, Pope Francis, and all the bishops, responded with a heartfelt “Amen!” Now, that’s a berakhah!
I love this story for it represents the genuine affection Pope Francis had for his friend Abraham Skorka and for the Jewish people. It also teaches us that the Pope realized all too well that his bishops would follow his lead. During his time as Pope, Francis made a pilgrimage to Auschwitz. He visited the Holy Land and went to Yad VaShem and the Wailing Wall. Again, and again, and again, until the day before his death, Pope Francis spoke out against antisemitism, characterizing it as being against Christianity.
I had the opportunity to meet the Holy Father several times in Rome and again when he visited New York City. On each occasion I was struck by his humility and the twinkle in his eye. Here was a man who loved his fellow human being—the very embodiment of the command to “love your neighbor as yourself” (Lev. 19:18). He was beloved, even as he was outspoken. He was not shy about rebuking the State of Israel for their treatment of Palestinians, especially in Gaza. But to those who knew the Pope, we understood that he did so out of love and caring for Jews and non-Jews alike.
Each time I met Pope Francis, he ended our brief time together with the same request, “Pray for me, rabbi.” And so, I pray, that as was his life and his papacy, may Pope Francis’ memory be a blessing.