Pope Francis created a 'seismic shift' toward acceptance, LGBTQ Catholics say

LGBTQ Catholics and theologians said the late pontiff’s legacy teaches that change can happen when leaders are willing to listen.

For LGBTQ Catholics and theologians, Pope Francis’ papacy will be remembered as a turning point — a time when acceptance was no longer whispered about but spoken aloud by the most powerful voice in the Catholic Church.

In July 2013, during an informal press conference aboard a flight, Pope Francis delivered a remark that would mark a defining moment in his papacy:

“If someone is gay and is searching for the Lord and has goodwill, who am I to judge?”

These words, uttered early in his tenure, broke sharply from the Church's traditional language — which had long described homosexuality as “objectively disordered” and “an intrinsic moral evil.” Instead, Francis introduced a tone of pastoral sensitivity that would characterize much of his leadership.

The pontiff passed away early Monday, just one day after Easter. In reflecting on his life, many LGBTQ Catholics say his legacy reflects what is possible when a spiritual leader chooses empathy over exclusion.

While Francis never altered the Church's doctrine — and often reaffirmed traditional teachings — his openness and humanity toward LGBTQ people created space for dialogue, something previously unimaginable under Popes John Paul II and Benedict XVI.

A Papacy of Listening, Not Judging

Pope Francis was far from perfect in the eyes of LGBTQ faithful.

Jason Steidl Jack, assistant teaching professor of religious studies at St. Joseph’s University in New York, points out that even shortly after his famous “Who am I to judge?” statement, Francis reiterated that homosexuality remains a sin in Catholic teaching. He also made controversial remarks using slurs and criticized what he termed “gender ideology,” suggesting that his approach wasn’t always consistent.

Still, Steidl Jack and others stress that what set Francis apart was his willingness to meet LGBTQ individuals, hear their stories, and acknowledge their dignity.

“He created a space where conversations could happen — conversations that simply weren’t possible under John Paul II or Benedict XVI,” Steidl Jack said. “As time went on, he seemed increasingly open, not just to gays and lesbians, but to the trans community as well. That level of pastoral openness was revolutionary.”

'He Sat With Us, He Held Our Hands'

Marianne Duddy Burke with Pope Francis

Marianne Duddy-Burke, executive director of DignityUSA, which advocates for LGBTQ Catholics, called the late pope’s tone a “seismic shift” for the global Church.

In the mid-1980s, her organization was pushed out of Catholic spaces after the Vatican issued a letter warning bishops against what it called the “pastoral care of homosexual persons.” Yet nearly 30 years later, Duddy-Burke was invited to the Vatican for a synod assembly in October 2023. She, along with two other representatives from the Global Network of Rainbow Catholics, met with Francis in person.

During the meeting, they discussed his call to decriminalize homosexuality globally, noting that the message needed to be echoed by bishops and Catholic politicians. They shared how LGBTQ individuals are still excluded from churches and pressed the importance of gender-affirming healthcare for trans people.

“He was warm. He smiled, made eye contact, laughed with us. He held our hands,” Duddy-Burke recalled. “At the end, he told us in Italian, ‘Your work is important. Keep going.’”

The moment was deeply emotional for her and powerful for the broader Catholic LGBTQ community. When photos of the meeting circulated, they sent a message that could not be ignored: LGBTQ Catholics were no longer invisible in the eyes of the Church.

A Legacy of Mercy

Journalist and author Michael O’Loughlin also experienced Francis’ pastoral approach firsthand. After publishing Hidden Mercy: AIDS, Catholics, and the Untold Stories of Compassion in the Face of Fear, O’Loughlin wrote to the pope about the priests and nuns who defied Church norms to care for people with AIDS during the crisis.

In a handwritten response in 2021, Francis thanked him for highlighting these acts of hidden mercy.

He wrote: “Instead of indifference, alienation, and condemnation, these people let themselves be moved by the mercy of the Father… silent and hidden, but still capable of sustaining and restoring lives.”

To O’Loughlin, this demonstrated that Francis had opened a door:

“I’ll always remember him as the pope who gave LGBT Catholics a chance to speak for ourselves inside the Church,” he said.

Personal Encounters that Transformed Lives

Max Kuzma meets Pope Francis.Courtesy Max Kuzma

For Max Kuzma, a transgender Catholic and advocate, his brief interaction with Francis in 2023 was deeply moving. Though the encounter was quick and without words, Kuzma said Francis’ facial expression and the firm grasp of his hand communicated volumes.

“I felt seen, accepted. There was a real sense of pastoral love in his eyes,” Kuzma said.

This kind of gesture stood in contrast to recent controversies. Kuzma noted with concern that while Francis had allowed trans people to be baptized and to serve as godparents, he also described gender theory in March 2024 as the “ugliest danger” of modern times — a comment that disheartened LGBTQ Catholics and emboldened anti-trans rhetoric in some circles.

Kuzma pointed to how the U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops praised former President Donald Trump’s executive order barring trans women from female sports, calling it another sign of growing polarization within the Church. “That kind of rhetoric fuels culture war narratives,” he said. “It worries me what could happen under the next pope.”

A Future Still in Question

Although Francis welcomed LGBTQ people more openly than any pope before him, he never fundamentally rewrote Church teaching. The Catechism of the Catholic Church continues to define homosexual acts as contrary to God’s will.

Steidl Jack noted that Francis’ approval of same-sex blessings in 2023 triggered backlash, especially from conservative clergy in Africa and Eastern Europe. He believes Francis understood the risk of pushing too far, too fast — particularly the risk of schism.

And yet, he emphasized, Francis laid essential groundwork.

“He didn’t get everything right,” Steidl Jack said. “But he showed up. He listened. He allowed himself to be changed by people’s stories — and that changed the Church.”

Francis’ friendship with Juan Carlos Cruz, a survivor of clergy sexual abuse and a gay man, exemplified that growth. In 2018, Francis told Cruz, “God made you like this.” In 2021, Cruz was appointed to a Vatican commission to protect minors — a sign of the pope’s trust and willingness to elevate LGBTQ voices.

If he had lived longer, Kuzma believes, Francis may have developed similar relationships with trans people, which could have led to further shifts in perspective.

As the Church prepares to enter a new era, LGBTQ Catholics are left hoping that whoever succeeds Francis will carry forward his spirit of compassion — and continue the ministry of listening he began.