Matt Burnell (Spence, Australian Labor Party) Share this | Hansard source

Today I speak with a heavy heart on behalf of the people of Spence to mark the passing of a truly extraordinary man, His Holiness Pope Francis—a man of deep humility, boundless compassion and unshakable moral courage. Born Jorge Mario Bergoglio in Buenos Aires in 1936, he lived a life of quiet service long before he wore the white robes of the papacy. He worked as a janitor, bouncer and chemist. He lived among the people. He listened to them; he understood them. And that never changed, even when he rose to become the first Jesuit pope, the first from the Southern Hemisphere and the first to take the name Francis.

He was inspired by St Francis of Assisi. He chose a path of simplicity and modesty over splendour and of mercy over judgement. He reminded the world that the church is a place welcoming of all people, and, for so many, Catholic or not, Pope Francis was the embodiment of hope—hope for a more inclusive church that welcomes the poor, the displaced, the excluded, the LGBTQ+ community and the forgotten; hope for a world where climate justice and human dignity walk hand in hand; and hope that the ancient and seemingly closed-door institution of the papacy could evolve, not by erasing or bypassing tradition but by reawakening its spirit for the 21st century.

His was a papacy of firsts, but, more importantly, it was a papacy of principle. He visited prisons, refugee camps, war zones and slums, not for photo opportunities but to listen to the people. He washed the feet of Muslim migrants and spoke softly to the child refugees. When others offered condemnation, he offered compassion. 'Who am to judge?' he often asked, in one of his most quoted remarks. But it wasn't a shrug with a lack of care; it was an affirmation of humility. In doing so, he cracked open the doors of an ancient institution, letting in light, letting in air and letting in love.

I know that many in the electorate of Spence will be grieving his loss, particularly our Catholic community and anyone who looked to Francis as a moral compass, not just as a religious figure but as a man of peace in troubling times. He was a champion for the voiceless when many chose to shout and a friend to those on the margins of society to invite them back in. Pope Francis believed that politics, at its best, was a form of charity—'one of the highest forms of love', he once said. He urged world leaders to govern with tenderness, with wisdom and always with the needs of the poor and struggling at heart. He reminded us time and again that behind every statistic is a soul, and I think that's what made him so powerful in this century of apathy.

He listened, he noticed, he cared. He didn't preach from a throne or an ivory tower; he walked among the people and greeted each one the way you would a close friend. It is impossible to capture his full legacy in words, but, if I had to choose one, it would be 'mercy'. In a world that can be so easily turned harsh, defensive and divided, Pope Francis chose mercy time and time again. In his teachings, his actions, and even in his silences, he taught us the strength of tenderness. He showed us that faith is not meant to wall us off from the world but to root us more deeply in its, that true holiness is not about retreat but engagement and that we are never more fully human than when we care for the most vulnerable among us. I hope that legacy is not just remembered but lived by priests, by politicians, by young people seeking purpose, by all of us.

It's rare for one person to unite people across faiths, ideologies and borders, but Pope Francis did—not by diluting his message but by returning to its essence: love thy neighbour, feed the hungry, shelter the stranger, clothe the poor, forgive those who have wronged you and, above all else, never forget that each person is made in the image of God. His Holiness lived those words every day not just in Vatican declarations but in quiet acts away from the cameras, in places most of us will never see. And so today we mourn, but we also give thanks for the life of a man who led not from above but from beside; who reminded us that change is not only possible, it is necessary; and who in the twilight of his life still dreamed of a world healed by compassion.

Vale, Pope Francis. May you rest in eternal peace. This world is a better place because of your actions.

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