Can you believe Pope Francis passed away with just $100 to his name—less than the price of a fancy dinner in Rome?
Pope Francis, the beloved leader of the Catholic Church, left this world on April 21, 2025, with a personal fortune so small it could fit in a poor man’s pocket: just $100, or less than 90 euros. For a man who guided over a billion souls and stood at the helm of an institution worth billions, this humble sum speaks volumes about the life he chose to live.
Born Jorge Mario Bergoglio in a working-class corner of Buenos Aires, Francis was no stranger to simplicity. The son of Italian immigrants, he worked as a chemical technician before answering a higher calling with the Jesuits, where he swore a vow of poverty that would define him. Even as pope, he shunned the trappings of power. No lavish Apostolic Palace for him—he opted for a modest room in the Vatican’s guesthouse. No golden papal ring, just a gold-plated one.
His salary?
He never touched it, funneling every cent to charity. The Vatican covered his basic needs—food, shelter, travel—but Francis owned nothing, not a scrap of property or a single stock.
His life was a testament to leading by example. Francis was a pope of firsts: the first Jesuit, the first from the Americas, the first non-European in over a thousand years. From the slums of Buenos Aires to the global stage, he carried the struggles of the poor in his heart. He dined with the homeless, visited the sick, and championed refugees and migrants. His voice rang out on the world’s biggest issues—climate change in his landmark encyclical Laudato Si’, economic inequality, the death penalty. He welcomed LGBTQ individuals into the church’s fold and brokered peace, from restoring U.S.-Cuba ties to signing a historic treaty with Palestine.
Francis’s compassion was matched by his courage. He tackled the church’s toughest challenges head-on, pushing for reform while staying true to the gospel’s call for mercy. His leadership wasn’t about grand gestures but quiet acts: a warm embrace, a shared meal, a prayer for peace in a war-torn world.
At 88, after a stroke led to a coma and cardiac arrest, Francis slipped away, one day after his final Easter Sunday appearance. True to form, he left behind instructions for a simple burial, with funeral costs covered anonymously. As the world prepares to bid him farewell, dignitaries and everyday faithful alike will flock to Rome, honoring a man who lived as he preached.
Now, the Catholic Church stands at a crossroads. The College of Cardinals will soon lock themselves in the Sistine Chapel, casting ballots in the ancient conclave until white smoke signals a new pope. Who will take up Francis’s mantle? And how will they carry forward his vision of a humbler, more inclusive church? For now, the world mourns a shepherd whose wealth was measured not in gold, but in the lives he touched.
