O Captain My Captain

Farewell to the People's Pope.

The final news article I read on Sunday was about the Easter meeting between Pope Francis and JD Vance — where the vice president yelled at the 88-year-old wheelchair-bound Pontiff multiple times for not saying thank you — only to wake up Monday morning to the news that the People’s Pope had died.

I’m sure that what immediately went through my head also went through yours. I’m not one to espouse conspiracy theories, but if I were, this is totally the one to espouse. This is some serious Da Vinci Code shit but without the Mary Magdalene twist.

In Catholic school I would always mix up Mary Magdalene with Mary, mother of Jesus, because every woman in the Bible was named Mary. I was swiftly punished by the nuns (also all named Mary) and forced to spend my weekends scrubbing the baptismal bowl with a toothbrush.

It’s fair to say that Pope Francis, the first Latin American and Jesuit pope, was not a huge fan of this administration, especially its immigration policies. In February, he wrote a letter to U.S. bishops, publicly rebuking the White House for its mass deportation of immigrants, saying that forceful removal deprives them of their dignity and “will end badly.” You have no idea.

But Vance, an adult convert to Catholicism (as opposed to a real Catholic), shot back with an old Latin phrase, “ordo amoris,” which may have sounded more convincing without that Eastern Kentucky accent. He claimed that this concept, rooted in Wiccan theology, dictates a “hierarchy of care,” in which you apparently don’t have to care about anyone in need. You know, just like Jesus and the lepers.

(Please note that “ordo amoris” is not the more well-known Latin phrase “carpe diem,” which roughly translates to, “How Robert Williams taught everyone to make their lives extraordinary.”)

Latin for I SOUND MY BARBARIC YAWP.

In in interview with CBS News, Vance said that it was “pretty crazy” that he was among the last officials to meet with the pope before he died.

“When I saw him, I didn't know that he had less than 24 hours still on this earth,” Vance said. “I think it was a great blessing.” No word on whether the “great blessing” was that he got to meet with him or that he’s dead.

“The thing that I will always remember Pope Francis for is that he was a great pastor,” Vance said. “People on the margins, poor people, people suffering from diseases, they saw in Pope Francis an advocate and a true expression of Christian love.”

No, no, no. You don’t get to say that. You are a truly horrible person. In fact, you should turn in your rosary and scapula.

Pope Francis was a rock star, as much as you can be a rock star in the Vatican. I mean, his predecessor Pope Benedict was, how do I put this, the worst. Who chooses a papal name after runny eggs dripping off soggy English muffins that somehow passes as brunch?

But this pope spent his entire life championing human rights. During his Easter service, the pope declared, “How much contempt is stirred up at times towards the vulnerable, the marginalized and migrants.” He made the Catholic church look good, a feat in itself.

Years ago, I was at a work happy hour and a colleague asked me if I was Christian. I said, Yes, I’m Catholic. He shook his head and said, Catholics aren’t Christian. So I threw my drink in his face and said, That’s how we do it in the Vatican.

Requiescat in pace, papa.