A couple of weeks back, Pope Francis issued a letter on the renewal of the study of Church history. There are a lot of themes in there that catch my attention. I could give some examples. For instance, there is a mention of ecclesiology, which always piques my interest. There is also mention of the place of truth in “sincere and effective paths of reconciliation and social peace,” and this brings to mind the Truth and Reconciliation Commission here in Canada. But these issues are not the ones that my mind is settling on at the moment.

What strikes me is that Pope Francis appears to be further developing the theme of beauty and vulnerability. I say that because of a paragraph towards the end of the letter:

In my final observation, I would like to recall that Church history can help to recover the entire experience of martyrdom, in the knowledge that there is no history of the Church without martyrdom and that we should never lose this precious memory. Even in the history of her sufferings, “the Church herself also recognizes that she has benefited and is still benefiting from the opposition of her enemies and persecutors” (Gaudium et Spes 44). Precisely where the Church has not triumphed in the eyes of the world is when she has attained her greatest beauty.

Here, Pope Francis is specifically talking about martyrdom down the centuries—the deaths of Christians that occur exactly and specifically because of their belief, because of their message, because of their lived faith. But before we close in his meaning and give it a concrete form, I’d like to point out a few things.

First, the Holy Father has been known to speak about martyrdom in a broader sense. At an early Angelus, reflection passed on to “daily martyrs, martyrs of everyday life.” The theme was repeated in the apostolic exhortation Gaudete et Exsultate:

I am not speaking only about stark situations of martyrdom, but about the daily humiliations of those who keep silent to save their families, who prefer to praise others rather than boast about themselves, or who choose the less welcome tasks, at times even choosing to bear an injustice so as to offer it to the Lord. (GE 119)

Most recently, in the encyclical Dilexit Nos, mention is made of Thérèse offering herself as a “martyr of [God’s] love” (DN 198). From his first months as Bishop of Rome until today, Francis has been hitting the same notes in the same chord.

Second, when the Pope recently re-organized the Diocese of Rome and issued an apostolic letter on the same, he made his central theme true beauty. And in that letter, the Holy Father said, as I highlighted and wrote a little commentary on, that “vulnerability is another manifestation of beauty.” In context, he means all human vulnerability drawn into the Church. All of it.

Third, the new letter on ecclesial history itself draws into focus “the ‘cancelling’ of insights from those whose voices were not able to make themselves heard over the centuries.” This is the Pope’s penultimate observation, immediately before the one on martyrdom. While it leaves the notion of martyrdom intact, it also arguably opens the field of reflection yet further. There are, in Pope Francis’ emphases over the years, the “martyrs” of daily life—and certainly, compared to many of the martyrs acknowledged as such, they have been neglected in the historical record and the retelling of history.

Putting this all together, I’d simply suggest that Pope Francis is, as is so often the case, on a theme. He told us last month: “Precisely where the Church has not triumphed in the eyes of the world is when she has attained her greatest beauty.” He told us the month before while writing on the Church: “Vulnerability is another expression of beauty.” It’s very hard not to put these two statements side by side. It’s exceedingly difficult to pretend they have nothing to do with one another. And it’s of vital importance, I think, for the future paths of the Church, that all of us, as much as individually possible and as much as collectively feasible, meditate on and contemplate the convergence of vulnerability and beauty in the world God has created and in the Gospel message. Pope Francis, after all, is on a theme. He’s opening doors. There’s a reason for it.