Not only did this act mark his pontificate as unique, but his choices in attire and early actions reinforced it. He appeared without the traditional red ermine-trimmed mozzetta, the papal stole, or other elaborate choir dress elements typically worn by new popes, opting instead for a simple white papal cassock and his familiar iron pectoral cross from Argentina. The following day, he returned to the clergy residence where he had stayed before the conclave to personally pay his hotel bill, rode back to the Vatican on a minibus with the other cardinals, and chose to live in the modest Domus Sanctae Marthae guesthouse rather than the Apostolic Palace. In the years that followed, he continued this pattern of simplicity: favoring plainer vestments, eschewing the armored "popemobile" in many instances for a small Ford car, and emphasizing a church "poor and for the poor." To many, these were powerful signs of a deeply humble pontiff dedicated to Gospel values and closeness to the marginalized.
However, some in traditionalist circles interpreted these gestures through a different and distorted lens, viewing them as self-focused innovations that diminished the dignity and continuity of the papal office rather than expressions of authentic humility. This divide persisted throughout his 12-year pontificate and intensified on social media, where numerous posts criticized his style and decisions. The criticism continued even after his peaceful death on Easter Monday, April 21, 2025, at age 88, just a day after his final public appearance during Easter celebrations, when he was called to the Father's house at his residence in the Casa Santa Marta.
We decided to respond to this X post from an alleged Catholic account who distorted the great St. Thomas Aquinas to push a ridiculous anti-Francis agenda:
Was Pope Francis really humble?
— Amy Balog ن (@AmyEBalog) January 10, 2026
St. Thomas Aquinas saw humility as submission to divine truth and the Church’s sacred traditions. For a pope, humility means embracing centuries-old ceremonial symbols to signal historical and theological continuity over personal innovation.… https://t.co/GfBYtQVmm0 pic.twitter.com/jZP1ds0IpH
Amy Balog ن on X: "Was Pope Francis really humble? St. Thomas Aquinas saw humility as submission to divine truth and the Church’s sacred traditions. For a pope, humility means embracing centuries-old ceremonial symbols to signal historical and theological continuity over personal innovation. https://t.co/jZP1ds0IpH" / X
This person's claim that Pope Francis was not truly humble—because he rejected traditional papal symbols and ceremonies, thereby drawing attention to his own individuality rather than submitting to "centuries-old ceremonial symbols" as a sign of continuity—relies on a false interpretation of humility, especially through the twisted lens of St. Thomas Aquinas. This view can be reasonably refuted on both theological and practical grounds.
St. Thomas Aquinas, in the Summa Theologica (II-II, q. 161), defines humility as a virtue that "tempers and restrains the mind, lest it tend to high things immoderately." It involves:
- Recognizing one's own limits and dependence on God.
- Submitting to superiors (ultimately God) and avoiding inordinate self-exaltation.
- Not being about false self-debasement or pretense, but a genuine inward disposition that keeps one within proper bounds while allowing for magnanimity (striving for great things according to right reason and God's help).
Humility is primarily about reverence toward God and others for God's sake, not rigid adherence to every external custom or symbol. Aquinas emphasizes that true humility is internal, not merely outward show, and false humility can even be a form of pride.
Pope Francis himself echoed this understanding in his teachings, describing humility as the "gateway to all virtues" and the antidote to pride, which "swells the human heart" and makes us appear more than we are. He stressed that it restores proper perspective: we are wonderful but limited creatures.
The argument frames humility for a pope as necessarily "embracing centuries-old ceremonial symbols" to show continuity, while portraying Francis's simpler style as "theatrical" self-promotion that elevates his personality over the Petrine office.
- Francis's actions were consistent with humility as service and self-restraint, not innovation for show.
He consistently rejected ostentatious elements—like living in the Apostolic Palace (choosing simpler residence in Casa Santa Marta), wearing basic black shoes instead of traditional red papal ones, declining elaborate vestments, and avoiding certain protocols—to focus on the essence of the papacy as service to the poor and marginalized. These were not innovations for personal flair but deliberate choices to imitate Christ's humility (e.g., washing feet, living simply). Far from "elevating his individuality," they aimed to downplay personal grandeur and redirect attention to the Gospel and the suffering.
- Iconic examples of his humility in practice.
One of the most powerful and repeated gestures was the Holy Thursday foot-washing ritual (Mandatum), where Francis broke with prior restrictions to wash and kiss the feet of prisoners (including women and youth), refugees, migrants, Muslims, Hindus, Orthodox, and others—often in prisons or shelters rather than grand basilicas. These acts visibly embodied Christ's example of humble service (John 13), embracing the lowly and marginalized as a sign of brotherhood and peace. Such gestures were widely seen as authentic humility, not theater.
- The critique risks confusing accidentals with essentials.
Papal ceremonies are important for continuity, but they are not the "timeless essence" of the papacy in a way that makes simplifying them inherently prideful. Many traditions evolved over time, and popes have adapted them (e.g., for pastoral reasons). Francis's choices can be seen as humble restraint—avoiding the temptation to revel in symbols of power—rather than rejection of the office. Critics sometimes argue that refusing traditions (like ring-kissing or certain attire) makes it "about him," but this can be countered: the truly humble approach in an exalted office might be to minimize personal trappings, not cling to them out of fear of appearing "innovative."
Traditionalists may prefer more ceremonial continuity, but these are not humility. Pope Francis's simplicity aligns well with Aquinas's core idea of humility as self-restraint before God, imitation of Christ's lowly service, and avoidance of pride. His public perception (even in polls) often highlighted humility as one of his strongest traits, rooted in concrete acts of service rather than mere symbolism. The claim of "theatrical displays" elevating personality is a subjective interpretation, not a definitive refutation of his genuine humility.
By their claim, Jesus being born in a manager with farm animals was a display of individuality and arrogance, and not humility.
In closing, we have chosen to defend the late Holy Father Pope Francis because, in our eyes, he will be remembered as one of the greatest and most humble popes in the history of the Church. There is no doubt in our hearts that he will one day be raised to the altars and canonized a saint. Pope Francis showed us all of himself—his full humanity—with unflinching honesty: his moments of righteous anger, his blunt and off-the-cuff remarks, his deep prayerfulness, and above all, his profound humility. He was a pope to remember always, a shepherd who won the hearts not only of the faithful but of countless people outside the Church, including atheists and the indifferent.
As someone who once lived as an atheist, I can say with certainty had Pope Francis been the Bishop of Rome during my years of unbelief, I would have converted on the spot. His life and ministry embodied what it truly means to be a Christian. He personified the corporal and spiritual works of mercy, living them out in a way that was visible, tangible, and utterly convincing.
Those traditionalists who attacked him relentlessly—both during his pontificate and even after his death—echo the Pharisees of Jesus’ time. They placed the letter of the law above persons, above mercy, and ultimately above God Himself. They worshipped externals—liturgical forms, vestments, Latin, elaborate ceremonies—while neglecting the heart of the Gospel. Their fixation on clothing and ritual minutiae sometimes betrays a deeper, perhaps subconscious preoccupation with appearances rather than the interior life and our standing before God.
Jesus never demanded elaborate liturgies, the exclusive use of Latin or Aramaic, Gregorian chant, or richly ornamented vestments. What He commanded was clear and uncompromising: love one another, serve one another, wash the feet of others. These were not suggestions, not optional ideals, and certainly not qualified by asterisks or prerequisites. They were commands.
Pope Francis lived them without compromise. May his memory be a blessing and may the Church one day joyfully proclaim him Saint Francis of Rome.
