Pope Francis remembered by Myanmar Catholics amid war and mourning

Myanmar’s faithful gather in darkness to honor Pope Francis, the only pontiff to visit their conflict-ridden country.

Faithful pray in memory of the late Pope Francis at St. Mary's Cathedral in Yangon, on April 22, 2025. Photo by Sai Aung Main/AFP

By Anna Fadiah and Hayu Andini

As dusk descended on Yangon, the grand arches of St Mary’s Cathedral became a silhouette against the war-darkened skies. With electricity severed by the latest wartime power cut, a heavy gloom settled inside Myanmar’s largest Catholic church. Yet amid the shadows, a single light source — perhaps a hidden bulb or a patch of late sunlight through the stained-glass — illuminated the portrait of Pope Francis at the front of the pews. His image, bright and serene, stood as a beacon to the crowd who had gathered to remember him.

Hundreds of Myanmar Catholics filled the cathedral Tuesday night to pay tribute to the man they regarded as more than just a global religious leader. To them, Pope Francis was a rare voice in the Vatican who persistently acknowledged their suffering, standing up for a country largely forgotten on the international stage. For them, Pope Francis is remembered not only for his historic 2017 visit but for his ongoing calls to end Myanmar’s civil conflict and for peace in the region.

‘Among popes, he was the most outspoken’

Standing near the altar, 44-year-old Sister Lucy, dressed in a modest white habit, spoke quietly but with conviction. “Among popes, he was the most outspoken on Myanmar,” she said, her voice barely audible over the low hum of whispered prayers and clanging church bells. “Myanmar Catholics will miss him as the pope who always remembered Myanmar.”

Her sentiment echoed through the pews as others nodded, murmuring prayers and singing hymns in memory of the pontiff who died Monday at the age of 88. Pope Francis, born Jorge Mario Bergoglio, was the only Catholic leader to ever visit Myanmar, making his four-day pilgrimage in 2017 during a fragile democratic opening that offered hope to many.

Now, almost a decade later, the hope has been swallowed by violence. A 2021 military coup plunged Myanmar back into autocracy, unleashing a brutal civil war that has killed thousands, displaced millions, and dragged nearly half of the population into poverty. Throughout these dark times, Francis continued to mention Myanmar — not just during his regular addresses, but in homilies, public prayers, and major sermons.

Calling the world to remember Myanmar

Even in his final public statement, Pope Francis did not forget the embattled nation. During this year’s Easter message, which was delivered on his behalf due to his worsening health, he pleaded with the world: “Let us not fail to assist the people of Myanmar.” He recalled both the devastation from the civil war and the March earthquake that killed over 3,700 people.

The message — though delivered in absentia due to his hospitalization with double pneumonia — left a powerful impression. “He’s a man who really cared for those people in the peripheries,” said Cardinal Charles Maung Bo, the Archbishop of Yangon, who led Tuesday’s memorial Mass. “He would always listen.”

Cardinal Bo’s words, though simple, struck at the heart of the pope’s legacy in Myanmar. Known for his commitment to the marginalized, Pope Francis constantly advocated for those forgotten by global diplomacy — Myanmar included. Even when world headlines moved on, he continued to pray for its people.

The legacy of a listening pope

As the memorial service continued, the cathedral’s brick walls echoed with solemn hymns and heartfelt tributes. Worshippers wore t-shirts and held paper fans bearing Francis’s likeness, souvenirs from his 2017 trip. Near the altar, preserved items from his visit were displayed: the vestments he wore during Mass, a raised wooden chair he sat on, two simple white pillows, and a towel.

For Myanmar’s estimated 700,000 Catholics — a minority in a predominantly Buddhist nation of over 50 million — Francis’s presence had never felt distant. His visit was not a mere photo opportunity, but a message that the global Church had not abandoned them. His calls for compassion and reconciliation lingered even as the country fell back into strife.

“He asked the other bishops to get out of their comfort zones,” said Sister Margarita, a 50-year-old nun who had attended both his visit and the Tuesday vigil. “No other pope has come to Myanmar, but he came. He practiced what he preached.”

Peace amid conflict

Tuesday’s service coincided with a temporary ceasefire declared by the military junta — officially to support earthquake relief efforts. Although violence continued in many regions despite the truce, Francis’s death served as a momentary pause for reflection.

“The message that he left and the homework that he gave the Church is to build peace and reconciliation,” Cardinal Bo said. “He would say, ‘Let’s open our hearts to everyone.’”

Bo, a native of Myanmar and a vocal advocate for peace, has been mentioned as a possible successor to Francis. The selection of a new pope will be determined by a conclave of cardinals in the coming weeks, a process cloaked in secrecy and prayer.

“We hope that the one that will be succeeding him will have the same sympathy, care, and concern for the people of Myanmar,” Bo added. His voice, though firm, carried a note of weariness — perhaps from grief, or perhaps from the weight of expectation that now rests on those who lead the global Church.

Practicing humility and compassion

Though the Vatican is often associated with grandeur, Pope Francis lived and served with humility. In Myanmar, that quality was not lost on the faithful.

“Francis didn’t just tell us to be humble. He lived it,” said a lay worshipper after the service. “He ate with the poor. He stayed in modest places. He didn’t use big words when small ones were enough.”

As the candles burned low inside the cathedral and the sky outside faded into night, Myanmar Catholics lingered long after the final hymn had been sung. They remained in quiet prayer, some holding flowers, others silently weeping. For many, this was not just the end of a papal era but the farewell of a personal shepherd — a man who, though far away in Rome, had walked beside them in their suffering.

As Sister Lucy stepped outside into the humid evening air, she looked once more at the glowing image of Francis inside. “He was our light,” she said. “And we’ll carry that light forward.”