Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,
There are moments in the life of the Church when time seems to stand still. Moments
in which the heart grows silent, the gaze lifts, and the Spirit invites us to contemplate the
mystery that sustains all things, visible and invisible.

One of those moments came on Easter Monday. As the Alleluias of Easter — the song of life
victorious over death — still echoed throughout the world, the news of Pope Francis’ passing
touched the conscience of humanity, deeply stirring our hearts.

Unexpected news, arriving like a whisper at the dawn of Easter. Just the day before, the Holy
Father — though physically weakened — had once more desired to offer the world his
message of hope. Even the doctors held hope. But the Lord, who searches hearts and knows
the days of man, chose for him the hour of return. The Pasch within the Pasch. A departure
from this life just as the Church was celebrating the Life that knows no end.
On Easter Monday, the liturgy brings us to the tomb of Christ. The women, first witnesses of
the Risen One, discover with wonder that the stone has been rolled away. They do not find
the body of the Master, but receive the Word that changes everything: “He is not here. He is
risen.”

Even the death of Pope Francis, in the light of this proclamation, does not appear as a defeat,
but is revealed as a passage — a threshold crossed in the light of the Resurrection. For him
too, the stone has been rolled away. He has left behind a world marked by conflict, violence,
poverty, and loneliness, to enter that Kingdom which he preached, believed in, and loved —
with the strength of a father and the meekness of a servant.

His pontificate was a sign of the Gospel lived. He steered Peter’s boat through stormy seas,
but never lost his course. He safeguarded the faith, promoted dialogue, sought out the
peripheries, and dried many tears. He spoke to the heart of contemporary humanity in the
language of mercy. With disarming humility, with courage in the storms, and with patience
in trials, he brought the Gospel to the nations. In him, we saw the tenderness of a father and
the steadfastness of a shepherd. He was unafraid of fragility, and never fled from the truth.
For us Armenians, as for many peoples of the world, he was a voice for justice, a companion
in suffering, a guide toward peace. Already as Bishop in Argentina, he had drawn near to our
people, welcoming a khachkar into the Cathedral in memory of the Armenian Genocide — a
silent and powerful gesture, one that already spoke of the fidelity to memory and justice that
would later mark his pontificate. With heartfelt words he defended the rights of our brothers
and sisters in Nagorno-Karabakh, supported efforts for reconciliation, and shared in the grief
of our losses, never failing to offer his fatherly gaze.

During the liturgical time of Easter, the Armenian Church reads from the Gospel of John and
the Acts of the Apostles. In these readings, we encounter the Spirit who guides the Church,
and the Word made flesh in the lives of the disciples. In the same way, the life of Pope Francis
wrote living pages of the Gospel. He made gestures that spoke louder than words, and uttered
words that lit hope in the hearts of many.

Now, we envision him in silence, standing before the Lord, in the peace of one who “has
fought the good fight, has finished the race, has kept the faith” (2 Tim 4:7). He wished to keep
nothing for himself. He gave everything. And now, we pray to the Father to hear with him the
voice of the eternal Shepherd: “Well done, good and faithful servant; enter into the joy of
your Lord” (Mt 25:21).

May the Lord receive his soul among the righteous, where there is no more sorrow or weeping,
but eternal life (Rev 21:4), and may He accompany, with the light of His Spirit, the Eminent
Cardinals who will gather to elect the new Successor of Peter, so that — guided by the wisdom
of the Holy Spirit and under the protection of Mary, Mother of the Church — they may choose
a Shepherd according to God’s heart, able to hear the cry of the world and to serve His Church
with love.

Amen.