Today, the Vatican is preparing for the funeral of Pope Francis, a momentous event drawing the eyes of the world to St. Peter’s Basilica. As a follower of the true Messiah, I find myself not mourning, but rather reflecting deeply—and with some astonishment—on how far removed modern religion has become from the simple, radical message of the Gospel.
There is a vast and undeniable difference between the life and teachings of Jesus Christ, as recorded in Scripture, and the elaborate religious institution that men have shaped in His name. The ornate rituals, political ceremonies, global power structures, and centuries of tradition that now define the Roman Church bear little resemblance to the humble, spirit-led faith practiced by the early followers of Jesus.
The contrast is almost too stark to comprehend. One cannot help but think of Peter—the impulsive, passionate fisherman from Galilee whom Jesus personally called to be a "fisher of men." Peter, who once trembled at the prospect of persecution and denied the Lord three times, would later boldly proclaim the resurrection of Christ in the face of threats, imprisonments, and beatings. His mission was clear: to preach that the Jewish Messiah had come, bringing salvation not only to the children of Israel but also to the Gentiles, through repentance and faith.
In his wildest imaginings, Peter could not have foreseen that his simple testimony to the risen Christ would, centuries later, be claimed as the foundation of a mighty empire—an empire adorned with gold and marble, guarded by Swiss soldiers, and surrounded by treasures unimaginable to a Galilean fisherman.
The Peter of Scripture would not recognize the Peter of Vatican City.
The Gospel that Jesus entrusted to His disciples was a Gospel of repentance, humility, and spiritual rebirth. It was a call to deny oneself, take up one’s cross, and follow Him—not to seek earthly dominion, political alliances, or opulent thrones. Yet, over time, what began as a dynamic, Spirit-filled movement was gradually institutionalized. Human ambition, religious syncretism, and political power plays wove a new tapestry that, while bearing the name of Christ, often obscured the heart of His message.
As I watch the solemn proceedings unfold in Rome today, I cannot help but be reminded of Jesus’ own words: "My kingdom is not of this world." (John 18:36). Yet here stands a kingdom very much of this world—replete with ceremony, regalia, and worldly influence.
This is not a judgment against individual hearts within the Catholic Church—God knows His own, and His Spirit works even where human systems fail. There are many sincere believers within its walls who truly love and seek the Lord. Nevertheless, the institution itself, with its layers of tradition, councils, and dogmas often running contrary to the simplicity of the Scriptures, stands as a sobering monument to the tendency of men to remake the divine into their own image.
Idolatry, once seen in the worship of carved images and false gods, now lurks in subtler forms: in the elevation of men to infallibility, in the veneration of relics, in the trusting of rituals over personal faith, and in the replacing of the living relationship with Christ with a distant, mediated system.
The Apostle Paul, too, warned of such a falling away when he wrote to the early churches: "For I know this, that after my departing shall grievous wolves enter in among you, not sparing the flock." (Acts 20:29). Today’s scenes are not merely the fulfillment of ancient predictions but the living reality of a faith once pure, now entangled in the affairs and honors of this world.
It is crucial for those who seek to follow Christ to remember that faith is not found in grand cathedrals or elaborate rites, but in the quiet surrender of the heart to the living God. True Christianity is not a system; it is a relationship—a daily walking with the Messiah, trusting in His finished work on the cross, guided by His Spirit, and obeying His Word.
As the Vatican bells toll and the dignitaries gather, my heart longs not for a return to human tradition, but for a revival of the simple, burning love for Christ that turned the world upside down in the first century. May we, like Peter, abandon our nets, leave behind worldly ambitions, and follow the risen King wherever He leads—no matter how humble the road may seem.
The death of a pope marks the end of an era for many. But for those who follow Jesus Christ, the call remains the same as it ever was: "Come, follow Me."