May the fourth be with you…

Good morning dear friends. What’s that thing that nerds across the world will say today? May the fourth be with you…

The greeting is more than customed movie-goers cosplaying. It’s an homage to Star Wars. The franchise’s storyline meticulously researched by George Lucas used a theologian’s idea of a hero’s journey. The idea is that there is a force for good in the world.

If saying “may the fourth be with you…” or “may the force be with you” connects you in a meaningful way to transcendence than by all means watch and speak!

Watch the movies and speak the words because people are funny creatures. Instead of stopping to breathe deep.

Let’s try that, breathe deep

Instead of looking around.

Let’s try that too, look around.

And especially instead of taking a moment to appreciate all that is and say, thank you.

We’ve got to say that now because none of us say it enough, “thank you.”

We are more often than not, as were the first Jesus people, arguing…complaining…worrying…

That’s what the rumor is in Rome these days. The Cardinals of the Catholic Church are preparing for a conclave. Some say some are subtly positioning themselves for the role of next pope. Odd’s makers in Las Vegas as taking bets on who it will be.

Into this environment a Malaysian Businessman wrote a touching tribute to the last Pope, Francis. Listen to these words,

I only met Pope Francis once. It was brief. There were just a few moments in a crowded room filled with dignitaries and seekers, some there out of duty, others out of belief. I was neither Catholic nor there on some divine pilgrimage.

I was just a man in need of a little hope.

And somehow, in that fleeting encounter, I received it.

It’s hard to explain without sounding overly romantic, but when you’re in the presence of someone truly good—not performatively good, not “publicly moral” or selectively kind—but genuinely, deeply, relentlessly good… something shifts in you.

You feel lighter.

You feel braver.

You feel like humanity, for all its wounds and wickedness, is still worth fighting for.

Not a bad Easter story on the beach. The disciples are adrift. You can almost imagine them saying the words of the eulogist about Jesus:

He was a man who made kindness radical again.

Who reminded the powerful that humility was not weakness?

Who spoke of love not as a doctrine but as a duty?

He was more than just a religious man. He was something far rarer—he was universally spiritual.

But the writer was not talking about Jesus. He says, “I am a Hindu.”

That makes sense if you like some believe Jesus went to India after his resurrection.

Some believe Jesus went to Japan…

All that is unknowable. It is, according to the guidebook of movies that wish courage, A Hero with a Thousand Faces.

What is knowable or at least documented is Peter is the first Pope. Let me tell you at least one person not excited by that choice, Paul.

Peter isn’t as bright as Paul.

Peter isn’t as brave as Paul.

Peter isn’t as strategic as Paul.

And maybe that’s exactly why Jesus chose him. Peter can do what he’s asked; or rather, he cannot do it; he needs God’s help. Is that one of the gifts of Pope Francis as well?

His voice, always soft but never weak, carried the weight of truth even when it unsettled the comfortable. Especially when it unsettled the comfortable.

This world has a way of chipping away at your soul. The noise, greed, hate, and empty rituals that masquerade as faith, patriotism, or family values can erode your soul. It’s easy to go numb. It’s easy to give in to cynicism.

However, occasionally, someone emerges who serves as a reminder that the nobler aspects of our nature remain accessible.

That goodness is still possible. That we don’t need to be perfect to do good—we just need to be brave.

Perhaps that’s not completely true either. Peter wasn’t brave.

He denied Jesus three times—just like Jesus said he would.

Peter sinks like the rock he’s told he’s named after when he tries to walk on water.

He sends children away.

He argues about who the greatest of the disciples is.

Yet, the eulogist insists, “Pope Francis understood something many religious leaders forget: God doesn’t reside only in temples or churches or mosques. Holiness is not a physical location, but rather a lifestyle. It's a perspective on the world around us. A way of choosing kindness, over and over, even when it hurts.”

Did Peter understand?

Maybe not. He wanted to build an temple on a mountain for Jesus.

So maybe the eulogist is remembering not a Pope…but who a Pope said they were trying to imitate; Jesus.

Pope Francis believed in a world where dignity wasn’t conditional. Where faith was lived, not just preached. That world can still exist—if we build it.

And maybe that’s the gift of Jesus. Maybe it’s why he keeps asking Peter if he loves him.

Because if we carry his belief in each other, then truly, he has not left us at all.

And our job like Peter’s, like the next Pope’s is simple, “feed my sheep.”