Pope Francis' death: Advocates on Long Island said pontiff was 'a champion of the marginalized'

In his 12 years as leader of the world's 1.4 billion Catholics, including an estimated 1.2 million on Long Island, Pope Francis regularly eschewed the trappings and luxuries of the papacy, instead using his perch to advocate for the underserved and marginalized, from migrants and the poor to the LGBTQ community.

The more liberal path of Francis, who died Monday at age 88, would earn him praise from those seeking a break from the church's conservative orthodoxy but scorn from traditionalists, including many in the United States, particularly on issues of immigration and homosexuality.

"Compassion, not doctrine, was his ministry," said Richard Koubek, who previously served as public policy administrator for Catholic Charities of Long Island and now coordinates faith-based justice advocacy for Long Island Jobs with Justice. "As a result, he suffered more criticism from within his church than any pope in memory. It did not deter him. He was unwavering in carrying out Christ’s original message: 'love one another as I have loved you,' especially the 'least of my brothers and sisters.'"

'Symbol of hope'

Francis was a fierce advocate for migrants during a period when U.S. and European policies shifted toward anti-immigration.

He brought a dozen Syrian Muslims on his plane to Rome after visiting a refugee camp in Lesbos, Greece, and directly criticized President Donald Trump's mass deportation policies. 

In an open letter to American bishops in February, Francis argued that deporting immigrants fleeing violence and persecution violates the "dignity of many men and women, and of entire families."

Martha Maffei, CEO at SEPA Mujer, a Patchogue-based Latina advocacy group, said Francis provided immigrants a sense of belonging, sowing a connection to a church that previously felt distant and unmoved by their plight.

"For many immigrants, he was a living symbol of hope," Maffei said. "We had faith that he would speak out about our suffering, build bridges and seek common ground with the current administration to inspire compassion and justice."

Parishioners of St. Anne’s Roman Catholic Church in Brentwood, where 42% of residents are foreign-born and nearly three-quarters are Latino, said they felt a special bond with the church’s first Latin American pope.

"He has all of us who are immigrants in his heart, not just here in the United States but in the whole world," Salvadoran immigrant Santiago Reyes, 69, said in Spanish as he arrived to pray.

Mori Blanco, 71, also a Salvadoran immigrant, said Francis reminded Americans, including those who "are unjust with Hispanic people, with immigrants," that most immigrants are good people who come to work and help their families.

Sister Janet Kinney, director of the Long Island Immigration Clinic at the congregation of the Sisters of St. Joseph in Brentwood, said Francis transformed the papacy into one of inclusion.

"Pope Francis was a champion of the marginalized, with an unwavering commitment to social justice, environmental stewardship and care for the poor," Kinney said. "Up until his very last moments on this Earth, he spoke out against the unjust treatment of the migrant, the refugee, the LGTBQIA+ person, and for all those who suffer in our world."

Rick Hinshaw, former editor of The Long Island Catholic, said caring for those on the margins of society has long been central to Catholic teaching.

"But I think Pope Francis saw a special need to keep it front and center throughout his papacy, in the minds and hearts of the Catholic faithful and in the considerations of political, cultural and religious leaders and influencers throughout the world," Hinshaw said. "In short, he wanted everyone to consider what we could do personally to help alleviate human suffering."

'Notable shift' on LGBTQ issues

Arguably no issue created more division and consternation between Francis and traditional Roman Catholics than homosexuality.

Asked early in his papacy about a gay priest, Francis famously responded: "Who am I to judge?"

In a 2023 interview with The Associated Press, Francis declared "being homosexual is not a crime."

And later that year, Francis made headlines, granting priests the ability to bless same-sex couples but stopping short of allowing them to officiate gay weddings.

Some gay rights Catholics celebrated the decision as the first step in reversing the church’s stance that same-sex relationships — when acted on — are "intrinsically disordered" while critics called the change a systematic attack on church orthodoxy.

David Kilmnick, president of the Hauppauge-based LGBT Network, said in a statement that Francis offered a message of dignity and humanity to the gay community.

"While the Catholic Church has historically been a source of deep pain for many in the LGBTQ+ community, Pope Francis represented a notable shift," Kilmnick said. "He was not perfect, and the church's official doctrines on LGBTQ+ people remain deeply problematic. But Pope Francis opened doors where others had built walls."

Jamie Manson, a Long Beach resident who is a lesbian and previously led the nonprofit Catholics for Choice in Washington, D.C., said while Francis gave the church a more welcoming face and emboldened conversations previously deemed untouchable, his words failed to bring meaningful change.

"I had certainly hoped that his preferential care for the suffering and the marginalized would have resulted in greater inclusion for all of us who have been abandoned by the church, especially women, LGBTQ people, and survivors of abuse by clergy," Manson said. "Unfortunately, though Pope Francis' merciful embrace was healing and hopeful for some Catholics, it did not often translate into true justice and meaningful doctrinal change for those harmed or excluded by the church."

With David Olson

By Robert Brodsky

robert.brodsky@newsday.com@BrodskyRobert

Robert Brodsky is a breaking news reporter who has worked at Newsday since 2011. He is a Queens College and American University alum.