I didn’t post over Easter. Partly because I was enjoying spending time with my family. Partly because it was Easter. That may sound obvious, but in a world that often races past holy moments, choosing presence over productivity felt like the right choice. I still intend to write something soon on resurrection and hope—because that’s not a seasonal subject. It’s for always.

But while I was quietly celebrating, a significant piece of Christian news broke: the death of Pope Francis on Easter Monday, after a prolonged period of declining health.

As tributes began rolling in, the typical fault lines also appeared. Sadly, responses to his passing seemed to split along the now weary lines of “left” and “right.” Even in death, Francis managed to do what he often did in life: make everyone a little bit uncomfortable.

Over at First Things—a publication I’ve learned from at times, though increasingly makes me feel concerned by its conservative stridency – a number of posts and articles struck me as not just critical, but untimely and even unkind. There’s room for critique, yes, but there’s also room for restraint. Thankfully, Bishop Robert Barron, a conservative voice I admire for his theological depth and pastoral tone, offered a more measured reflection: one that acknowledged both the Pope’s powerful witness and the real ambiguities and problems that marked his papacy.

And ambiguity, of course, is the word. Pope Francis walked the tightrope between grace and truth. And if we’re honest, so do we.

The Grace and Truth Tug-of-War

It’s an ancient tension. Progressives want to lead with mercy, inclusion, and grace—which are essential. But sometimes, in the rush to embrace everyone, they risk letting go of the anchor of truth. Conservatives, on the other hand, strive to guard doctrine, hold the line, and stand firm—which is noble. But sometimes they end up sounding like they skipped the part about loving your neighbour.

Let’s be honest: some progressive rhetoric has lacked moral and intellectual integrity, and some conservative expression has lacked compassion. And yet, Jesus held both grace and truth in perfect tension – this was part of his glory (John 1:14). He confounded the categories. Just when you thought he was leaning left—welcoming sinners, touching lepers, forgiving prostitutes—he’d turn around and say something wildly uncompromising about the law or the narrow road. He refused to be predictable. And that made him hard to pigeonhole, which is probably why religious and political leaders found him so frustrating.

Pope Francis has shared something of that spirit. He kissed the feet of migrants, denounced clerical abuse, and spoke passionately about economic justice and the environment—drawing admiration from the left. But he also upheld Catholic teaching on many contested issues, sometimes dashing progressive hopes. Like Jesus, he kept people guessing.

The Problem with Labels

The temptation to stick a label on someone—liberal, conservative, moderate—is a human one. It makes people easier to manage. But Christianity resists tidy packaging. Jesus didn’t come to reinforce our tribal instincts. Instead, he confounds them. And if you never feel the tension between grace and truth, it may be because you’ve already quietly given up on one of them.

Following Christ will always mean living in that tension. It’s uncomfortable. It demands wisdom. It calls us to hold high standards and also to stoop low in compassion. And that’s a difficult balance to maintain at times.

A Church in Tension

Whoever succeeds Francis will inherit the same deeply divided Church. One part will long for doctrinal clarity and faithfulness to tradition. Another will yearn for renewal, reform, and greater liberalisation of the Church. And perhaps the real calling will be not to solve that tension—but to inhabit it faithfully.

Pope Francis didn’t always get it right. But he did seem to understand that leadership in the Church means living in the uncomfortable space between grace and truth, judgement and mercy, tradition and reform. In that, he had more in common with the rest of us than we realised.