This week, His Holiness Pope Francis, the head of the Catholic Church, died. That’s not really surprising. He was 88 years old, and he’d been struggling with his health for several years. Nor is it unique; there have been 266 popes, give or take a few disputed claimants. Some of those guys made a huge difference in the world; most of them nobody has heard of outside dusty libraries and lists on Wikipedia. Name any pope who lived before their lifetime and most people will give you a blank look. 

But Francis was different. 

Born Jorge Bergoglio in Argentina, Francis was the first pope from the Americas, and the first one since the eighth century to come from outside Europe. That’s a big deal. Francis’ election in 2013 served as a reminder (and not always a welcome one) to Europeans that the Church isn’t actually their personal property. The demographics bear that out: According to the CIA Factbook, only slightly over a fourth of the world’s Catholic population is in Europe. By electing a Latin American, the College of Cardinals admitted that the Catholic Church really is, as the word “catholic” means, a worldwide institution. 

Francis was the first pope who was also a member of the Society of Jesus. Only 33 other popes were members of religious orders before their election. Orders have their own structure independent of the Church hierarchy, which tends to put them outside the mainstream of Church politics. Almost as much as being Latin American, being a Jesuit made Francis an outsider. 

It’s a little surprising, then, that he took the name of the founder of the Franciscan order for his papal name. Not only was Bergoglio the first pope since the 10th century to take on a name that hadn’t been used before, but his namesake, St. Francis of Assisi, was associated with humility and charity rather than education like Francis’ own Jesuit order. 

By all accounts, humility defined Pope Francis. As archbishop of Buenos Aires, Bergoglio was known for ministering to the poorest and most dangerous slums in a city famous for rough neighborhoods. After he was elected pope, he rode back to the Vatican in a bus rather than the Popemobile. He refused to live in the papal palace, insisting instead on staying in the Vatican guest house. He had a reputation for sneaking out of the Vatican to shop, mix with ordinary people and tend to the homeless. He was active on social media and made jokes at news conferences. He made a point of building bridges with other religions and with political figures on all sides.  

Francis might have been one of the most influential men in the world, but you’d never have known it from him. 

And that, in the long run, is what Francis will be remembered for. Not for his name, not for his origins, not for great deeds or scholarly writings. Francis was the people’s pope, and people knew it. 

As a Catholic myself, I feel Francis’ passing personally. But the rest of the world has lost something too. Goodness and mercy, as the Psalm says, followed him all the days of his life, touching millions of people. When the Church chooses a new leader in the coming weeks, Francis’ example will cast a long shadow. 

Goodbye, Your Holiness. We won’t forget you.