As I sat among the more than 200,000 people who came to Rome to grieve the loss and celebrate the life of Pope Francis, one word kept running through my mind − mercy.
I thought of the pope's motto - "'Miserando atque eligendo." It translates as, "He looked at him with mercy and chose him." It is a reference to Jesus selecting Matthew to be his disciple, not despite the fact that the tax collector was a sinner, but because of it.
I thought of the Jubilee Year of Mercy that Pope Francis proclaimed. I thought of "The Name of God is Mercy" that he wrote.
Most of all, I thought of his mission, his ministry, his life's work.
I first met Francis at his inauguration as pope in 2013. I was vice president. Like millions of Catholics all over the world, I felt a surge of hope and optimism.
In Francis, I saw the revitalization of the faith I had grown up with. A faith that calls us to care for "the last and the least" among us. A faith that gives us the obligation to feed the hungry, care for the sick, lift up the poor, welcome the stranger. A faith that sees the humanity in everyone and believes we are all God's children. A faith of forgiveness and compassion. Of dignity and respect. Of love and mercy.
Francis was a pope for our time, when so many leaders embraced cruelty. He stood for compassion. When so many casually embraced lies. He stood for truth. When so many saw the climate as an imagined problem. He saw it as an existential crisis. When so many treated the climate as a political matter. He knew it was a moral imperative.
And when so many practiced the politics of dehumanization, he stood for our common humanity.
Francis was a voice of great moral clarity even in the face of sickness and death.
In his final Easter message, which he gave just one day before he died, he cried out against war: "What a great thirst for death, for killing, we witness each day in the many conflicts raging in different parts of our world!"
He called out the cruelty being inflicted on others: "How much violence we see, often even within families, directed at women and children!"
He spoke against the demonization of the weakest among us: "How much contempt is stirred up at times towards the vulnerable, the marginalized, and migrants!"
Francis used to say that "a little mercy makes the world less cold and more just." Now I fear with his passing, the world will be colder and less just. Which means that all of us who loved Francis need to step up.
Francis wasn't the only one chosen by God's mercy. We all were. When we remember that, we will see that mercy isn't weakness. There is no greater strength.
One of the mementoes I most treasured as president was a photo with Pope Francis that I kept on my desk in the Oval Office. That photo is now on my desk at home in Delaware. It serves as a daily reminder to me to do more, to be better, to make a difference in the lives of others.
Pope Francis was a great leader and a deeply good man. Now we can honor his life by making his legacy a living legacy. A living faith. A faith of caring and compassion - and mercy.
Joe Biden was the 46th president of the United States.