Shortly after the election of Francis, my cousin John—a non-catholic—predicted that his papacy would bring “epochal” changes not only to Catholicism and Christianity, and to the world at large. Less than 17 months later, I’m nearly persuaded that he was right.
Last month I attended a workshop at Boston College on the theme “Pope Francis and Vatican II.” Many speakers confirmed my own view (see CrossCurrents #393) that Francis has rescued the legacy of Vatican Council II from those who would prefer to believe that the Council made no difference.
The workshop followed hard on the heels of Pope Francis’ historic “prayer summit” with the presidents of Israel and the Palestinian people. For me, the combined effect has been to ignite my hopes for the Church’s impact in our modern, globalized culture. For me, the prayer summit crystallized a turning point that has no precedent in my 42 years of pastoral work.
To explain I must flash back to a discussion with my grown children from the fall of 2002. As the sex abuse scandal exploded in Boston, they challenged me to persuade them to stay connected to the Church. I admitted to all their grave misgivings, but argued nonetheless that the Church could be essential to their future lives.
After nearly an hour, my daughter Melissa brought the matter to a head.
“OK, Dad,” she said. “You’re right. Over the next few years we will be settling into our career paths, maybe will be getting married, settling down, having kids, raising a family. We may need support for the next part of our spiritual journeys, and we may seek that support in a faith community.”
She paused. Then: “But Dad, tell me this: why the hell would we pick THIS church for our kids?”
I was speechless--and my friends know that is a rare state for me! I literally had no answer at all.
In fact, I spent the next five years constructing an answer. Eventually I settled on an answer in the form of a sharp slogan (subsequently stolen by the U.S. Navy). One might “pick” the Church, I began to argue, because of its potential as “A Global Force for Good.”
My own opinion is that, for the U.S. Navy, this is false advertising--if only because the U.S. military by definition is a national force no matter where it is deployed. But it is fair to ask: is this tag any more accurate for the Roman Catholic Church?
I’m beginning to think that the “Francis effect” we’ve witnessed since the election of Pope Francis is precisely about his efforts (and effectiveness) in making “A Global Force for Good” a realistic description of the Church.
Every modern pope has commanded extensive public attention, but no pope since John XXIII (1958-1963) has evoked such affection from millions of Catholics and non-Catholics alike. At first, it was easy to suppose his popularity stemmed from his self-effacing manner, and many wondered if his papacy might prove to be more style than substance.
But by now we know otherwise, for two reasons. First, at the level of global leadership, style sometimes is substance, at least inasmuch as symbolic gestures can have substantive effects. Second, his actions are already making real differences.
Last month’s prayer summit actually combined style and substance. It followed his visit to the Holy Land, where the media competed to provide the best coverage of the most photo opportunities. 
But his trip had practical aims as well. He was there to express concern about the persecution of Palestinian Christians, and about the protection of Christian shrines at many sites. His official purpose was actually a meeting with Patriarch Bartholomew, the Christian Orthodox leader.
Thus Francis was able to promote three causes at once. He reached out for greater unity among Christians, he called for the rejection of persecution of Middle Eastern Christians, and he called for dialogue rather than violence in the face of conflict.
The prayer summit, on Pentecost Sunday, gave new evidence that Francis is shrewd enough to combine symbolic gestures with substantive actions. In particular, the summit revealed Francis’ gift for understanding how his office can function in the 21st century.
By insisting that the summit was a spiritual, not political event, Francis neutralized any suspicion that he was engaging in naive idealism in the face of difficult challenges. The pope’s role, in other words, is not policymaking.
But it is peacemaking, in the broader sense.
First, the summit brought together three heads of state (even though the Vatican is a tiny city state, and the Palestinians remain stateless).
Second, it also brought together three religious traditions: Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. There was no communal prayer (each leader read texts from his own scriptures). But, while they did not pray together, they did come together to pray.
Thus, in arranging this event, Francis was acting out his previous call for a world-wide culture of encounter.
The peacemaking aim of the summit was symbolized by planting an olive tree, by friendly hugs, and by Francis himself calling this “the beginning of a new journey.”
In his remarks, Francis gave that journey a clear focus:
John Allen has suggested that Francis is leading the Vatican “back to diplomatic relevance,” and even suggest a new level of public expectation aimed at the papacy:
After Sunday it is hard to imagine any global conflict in which the question will not be eventually arise, “when is the pope going to step in?”
And Patriarch Bartholomew went so far as to call Francis “the world’s greatest ambassador of peace.”
Cynics may still suspect that Francis is strong on empty gestures but weak on concrete actions. But since the summit, he has acted on several fronts.
He pronounced that the Mafia have, by their own crimes, excommunicated themselves from Catholic Church. He has met individually with victims of priest sexual abuse, promising to hold accountable not only the priests who committed abuse but also the bishops who protected them. He has initiated the reform of the Vatican Bank, and made it accountable to Vatican administrators. He even called for a “pause for peace” during the World Cup’s final match, which received widespread Internet support.
Of course, time was when the papacy wielded power across all Christendom, so that even monarchs required his blessing for major policy decisions. But by 1871, when the Italian Civil War dismantled the Papal States, the papacy’s power had dwindled to honorary status, and for the last century popes have influenced events by their moral authority rather than their political clout. Often, that meant popes could be conveniently ignored by public officials.
John Allen therefore may be overly optimistic about the pope’s leverage (and this month's clash between Israel and Hamas can discourage even the most hopeful observers), but Francis is clearly becoming hard to ignore, even compared to John-Paul II.
First, he has arguably become the best-liked person on earth. Whereas John-Paul II was admired for his intelligence and charisma, Francis is beloved for his simplicity. In an age when social media shapes so much public consciousness, Francis enjoys a visibility and a positive PR image that no other public figure can rival.
First, he has arguably become the best-liked person on earth. Whereas John-Paul II was admired for his intelligence and charisma, Francis is beloved for his simplicity. In an age when social media shapes so much public consciousness, Francis enjoys a visibility and a positive PR image that no other public figure can rival.
At the same time, he matches his simplicity with a shrewdness that has positioned the papacy for a unique role in contemporary public affairs: (1) As head of the world’s largest organization (period!), he represents 1.3 billion people living on every continent and nearly every country—nearly 20% of the world’s population. (2) He is also a head of state, but his state is so small its political power is negligible. He can thus play neutral broker in a way no ordinary politician can. (3) His statements make it clear that he seeks to reach out to and create working partnerships for peace with anyone of good will, whether Christian, Jewish, Muslim, any other faith, and even people of no faith. (4) He is a native of the Third World, and both represents and speaks for the poor. (5) His mission is clearly not only to lead the Church, but to be present in the world.
What Francis has accomplished in 16 months is nearly without precedent: he has made his papacy the world’s leading voice for peace, for economic equality, and for fraternity among all people. In effect, he is the closest thing we have (and have had in generations) to the spiritual leader of the whole world.
This does not make the Catholic Church a “Global Force for Good” overnight—but it does create the possibility. If enough bishops, priests, religious, ordinary Catholics, and other people of goodwill support this man, and if his mission succeeds, the day could soon come, when young adults will know why they want to pick this Church for their kids.
© Bernard F. Swain PhD 2013
