The Daily Cross of the Pope

Divine Appeal Reflection - 254

Today, consider in Divine Appeal 254: "The pope will suffer very much."

The prophecy that “the pope will suffer very much” is not merely a solemn warning—it is a piercing unveiling of the mystical participation the Roman Pontiff has in the Passion of Our Adorable Jesus. The papacy is not a throne of earthly glory, but a cross uniquely conformed to Christ’s. Every pope, in ways both seen and unseen, walks a narrow path marked by suffering for the sake of the Church. This is no abstract idea. From the gunshots that tore through St. John Paul II’s body in 1981, to the labored breathing and infections that increasingly confined Pope Francis in his final years, the Body of Peter has become a living icon of the Suffering Servant (cf. Is 53). These afflictions are not accidents of old age or the price of public office. They are permitted, even mysteriously willed, by divine Providence, so that the Vicar of Christ might drink, in a unique measure, the chalice prepared for him (cf. Mt 20:22).

Yet beyond the physical anguish lies a heavier, more hidden passion: the interior crucifixion of the heart. The pope, like Christ, must suffer contradiction from sinners (cf. Heb 12:3). He is daily burdened with a global flood of moral and theological crises, each demanding a word that balances justice and mercy. Pope Francis, now laid to rest, endured this storm of division. He was simultaneously hailed as a reformer and condemned as a destroyer. His attempts at dialogue, renewal, and outreach often left him a stranger to both progressives and traditionalists alike. Yet is this not the imprint of Christ? Praised by the crowds and crucified days later, Our Lord revealed the cost of true leadership in the Kingdom. In this same spirit, the pope must be both lamb and shepherd, intercessor and lightning rod, servant and cornerstone. In him, as in no other human role, is fulfilled St. Paul’s mysterious saying: that what is lacking in the sufferings of Christ is filled up through the suffering of His Mystical Body (cf. Col 1:24).

History confirms that this burden is not confined to modernity. Pius XII bore the solitary agony of shepherding during World War II, accused of silence by some, praised for hidden heroism by others. Blessed Paul VI wept over Humanae Vitae, knowing its teaching would provoke uproar and yet refusing to betray the truth about human life and love. St. John Paul II wrestled with Communism, culture wars, and personal threats, all while preaching the dignity of man redeemed by Christ. Today, Pope Leo XIV inherits not only the Petrine office, but the full weight of a Church in labor: wounded by scandal, stretched by ideological factions, and tossed upon the waves of global upheaval. His words, actions, and silences will be scrutinized by billions. But hidden beneath each papal gesture is a mystical vocation: to stand in Christ’s stead as a sign of contradiction (cf. Lk 2:34), and to preserve the unity of the Church not by dominance, but by sacrificial love.

This suffering of the pope is not accidental nor empty—it is a hidden participation in the redeeming mystery of Christ’s Cross. According to the Church’s teaching, it is by divine design that the Roman Pontiff serves as the enduring and outward sign of unity for both the college of bishops and the entire community of believers (cf. CCC 882). Yet such unity is not preserved by power, but by love crucified. The agony borne by Peter’s successor becomes, in the hands of God, a mystical fountain through which grace flows into the veins of the Church. His daily trials, offered in union with the Eternal High Priest, take on a sacrificial character—an invisible martyrdom endured so that the Body of Christ may be healed and remain one. 

As Church members, we cannot watch helplessly. We are all asked to stand beside the Holy Father, not from a distance but with hearts moved by love, just as Our Lady stayed obediently at the foot of the Cross. By making our own daily sacrifices, we are encouraged to share in his burden, pray with him, and yes, even cry with him when the weight becomes too much for him to handle alone. Now, as the Petrine Cross passes from the worn hands of Pope Francis to the newly chosen Pope Leo XIV, may every Catholic heart be stirred to rise in prayerful support. For behind the solemn white robes stands a man chosen to carry Christ’s Cross for the sake of us all. For though the faces of the popes change, the chalice remains—and it is the same Christ who strengthens, sustains, and sanctifies the Rock that shall never be broken.

Prayer

O Our Adorable Jesus, You have chosen the popes to share deeply in Your Passion for the sake of Your Church. We thank You for the sacrifice of Pope Francis, and we entrust Pope Leo XIV to Your pierced Heart. Strengthen him with grace. May our prayers console him in suffering. Amen.

Sr. Anna Ali of the Most Holy Eucharist, intercede for us.