After Pope Francis: Can the Next Pope Fix the Vatican’s 'Mess'?

Pope Francis’s time at the helm of the Catholic Church can be summed up in one word: disruptive. Whether you loved him or loathed him, there’s no denying his papacy shook up centuries-old traditions and left the Vatican with more questions than answers. As the first pope from the Americas, and with Italian roots, his very election was historic—and now, as the Church grows fastest in Africa, some even speculate the next conclave could bring the first African pope in over a millennium. The Church’s global face is changing fast; nowadays, you’re just as likely to see an African or Indian priest at Mass in your own neighborhood.

Historically, the pope wasn’t a daily headline-maker. Most Catholics rarely heard directly from the Vatican, with local bishops handling the day-to-day. But modern tech has turned the papacy into a global media fixture, and Francis embraced the spotlight—sometimes to the Church’s benefit, sometimes to its confusion.

Pope Francis, who spoke out against the "technological paradigm" dehumanizing society, also tried to clean up Vatican finances. But despite working with heavy-hitters like the late Cardinal Pell, the results were, well, mixed. He was notably vocal against what he called "ideological colonization" from the West, especially on gender issues—a stance that resonated in Africa but made waves in Europe and the Americas.

Some of his most headline-grabbing moves, such as the document "Fiducia Supplicans" allowing blessings for same-sex couples, sent shockwaves through both theological and cultural circles. African church leaders, for instance, saw this as a form of cultural imperialism. And let’s not forget Francis’s tendency for "Airplane Magisterium"—his in-flight comments that sometimes left Vatican officials scrambling for clarifications.

On social issues, Francis’s environmental advocacy earned him the nickname "The Green Pope," though his actual positions on topics like abortion remained staunchly orthodox. He condemned abortion in the strongest terms, though he didn’t want it to dominate the Church’s message. His diplomatic approach to China was controversial and shrouded in secrecy, echoing old Cold War strategies and, to many, lacking bite against real persecution.

Francis’s call to "make a mess" in the Church succeeded—debate and polarization flourished. The next conclave may opt for a stabilizer, someone to clean up after the Francis era’s whirlwind. Still, Francis was initially seen as a gentle reformer—a reminder that popes can surprise even their biggest fans (and critics).

He challenged capitalism, sometimes painting with too broad a brush and missing the difference between dynamic free markets and the kind of corrupt system he saw in Argentina. The most debated theological legacy might be the infamous footnote in "Amoris Laetitia," which opened the door for Communion for some Catholics in irregular marriages. This sparked confusion and fierce debate about Church teaching.

Francis also updated the Catechism to label the death penalty as "inadmissible," fueling a lively theological debate about whether it’s on par with abortion as an intrinsic evil. His efforts to soften the Church’s image, making it appear more merciful and open, were clear—but critics argue his messaging often lacked clarity, leaving many Catholics wondering just where the Church stands.

In the end, Pope Francis’s legacy is still being written. The next pope faces the daunting task of clarifying doctrine, bridging divides, and restoring the credibility of the Vatican. The Church will have to balance mercy and truth, tradition and reform, as it steps into its next era. No pressure, right?