#398: The Pope’s New Role: Troublemaker

Pope Francis put his style AND his substance on display in Rio to stunning effect...

By the end of World Youth Day in Rio, everyone--bishops, priests, politicians, journalists, even the youth themselves--were left a bit breathless trying to keep up with this elderly but ever-youthful “phenom” called Pope Francis.

Not only did he wade on foot into Rio’s most dangerous slum, not only did he draw more than 3 million to Copacabana Beach, not only did he initiate an unprecedented 80-minute no-holds-barred press conference on the plane home--but he used the Rio trip as the occasion to begin spelling out his agenda on the major issues facing our Church and our world. 

And that spelling out spelled “trouble” for a wide variety of audiences.

Rather than offering lengthy complex analyses of a few issues, Francis made brief comments on many current concerns.  In that spirit, let me suggest just how much trouble he is stirring up.

Clericalism:  When Francis says this: I want to tell you something. What is it that I expect as a consequence of World Youth Day? I want a mess. We knew that in Rio there would be great disorder, but I want trouble in the dioceses!...I want to see the church get closer to the people. I want to get rid of clericalism, the mundane, this closing ourselves off within ourselves, in our parishes, schools or structures. Because these need to get out!

That spells trouble for any churchmen who strive for status, who cling to privilege or power, who exploit their authority for themselves, OR who expect laypeople to be docile and compliant like obedient little children.

Culture Wars:  When asked why he had little to say about abortion and same-sex marriage, Francis said that the Church’s official positions are well established, and besides he wanted to keep a positive focus during World Youth Day.  

 This spells trouble for anyone who thinks the Church is only strong when it is fighting the culture wars or obsessing over sexual matters like contraception.

Gay Priests:  Asked about gay priests in the Vatican, Francis quipped:

"I have still not seen anyone in the Vatican with an identity card saying they are gay"--and then went on to say:

So much is written about the gay lobby…They say there are gay people here.  I think that when we encounter a gay person, we must make the distinction between the fact of a person being gay and the fact of a lobby, because lobbies are not good.

This spells trouble for all who thought Benedict XVI’s policy against ordaining gay men (which led to purges of some seminaries and seminaries faculties) was an absolute, eternal edict.  It now appears that the Church’s many gay priests can breathe a little easier.

Gays: And Francis also made these remarks about gay people in general:

If someone is gay and he searches for the Lord and has goodwill, who am I to judge? The catechism of the Catholic Church explains this very well. It says they should not be marginalized because of this [orientation] but that they must be integrated into society.  The problem is not that one has this tendency; no, we must be brothers.

This spells trouble for pastors and bishops who want to boycott the Boy Scouts of America just to keep out gay members—as well as many other Catholics who discriminate against gays.

An Introverted Church: At Rio’s cathedral, Francis urged the gathered bishops and clerics that they must not:

Keep ourselves shut up in parishes, in our communities, when so many people are waiting for the gospel…I want the church to go out in the street.  The seminaries, the institutions must go out in the street.

This spells trouble for all church officials content with “business as usual” even as our numbers decline.

Youth: When Francis focused on youth, he said this:

A young man who doesn’t protest doesn’t suit me…A young man is essentially a nonconformist, and that is a very beautiful thing. You need to listen to young people, giving them outlets to express themselves and ensure they don’t get manipulated.

This spells trouble for parents who pressure their kids to conform, to simply accept things as they are and fit in--and spells trouble too for youth who are content to simply follow the path laid out for them.  Francis, who came of age in the 1960s, seems here to echo that decade’s call to question both established ways and the authorities that defend them.

And when he called on youth to be “actors of change,” he challenged a whole generation to make a difference in the world:

Keep overcoming apathy and offering a Christian response to the social and political concerns taking place in different parts of the world.

Materialism: This went along with his warning not to idolize the seductive comforts of modern life:

It is true that nowadays, to some extent, everyone, including our young people, feels attracted by the many idols which take the place of God and appear to offer hope: money, success, power, pleasure…Often a growing sense of loneliness and emptiness in the hearts of many people leads them to seek satisfaction in these ephemeral idols.

This spells trouble for young people conditioned to believe that materialism holds the key to the good life.  It invites them to realize that life is fullest when understood as a spiritual journey.

Inequality, Injustice, and Peace: No doubt the destitution of Rio’s favelas reminded Francis of its own poor neighborhood in Buenos Aires, so it’s no surprise he made his typical concern for the poor a main theme in Rio.  But he made it clear that his concern went beyond charity to justice, and beyond poverty to its causes:

The measure of the greatness of a society is found in the way it treats those most in need…those who have nothing apart from their poverty!

I would also like to tell you that the Church, the “advocate of justice and defender of the poor in the face of intolerable social and economic inequalities which cry to heaven” (Aparecida Document, 395), wishes to offer her support for every initiative that can signify genuine development for every person and for the whole person.

No-one can remain insensitive to the inequalities that persist in the world."

This led him to appeal to the world’s rich:

"I would like to make an appeal to those in possession of greater resources, to public authorities and to all people of good will who are working for social justice: Never tire of working for a more just world, marked by greater solidarity.

And it also led him to dismiss the naive notion that we can pursue peace at home and abroad without attacking inequality:

No amount of pacification will be able to last, nor will harmony and happiness be attained in a society that ignores, pushes to the margins or excludes a part of itself.

All this spells trouble for those American Catholics--and Americans generally--who fail to see that our way of life has produced the worst inequality of any rich nation, has also perpetuated inequalities between the rich and poor nations, and has impeded peace while providing fertile soil for terror.

The Church’s Methods: When Francis offers this criticism of the way the church communications with its members and the world at large:

At times we lose people because they don't understand what we are saying, because we have forgotten the language of simplicity and import an intellectualism foreign to our people," he said. "Without the grammar of simplicity, the church loses the very conditions which make it possible to fish for God in the deep waters of his mystery.

Perhaps the church appeared too weak, perhaps too distant from their needs, perhaps too poor to respond to their concerns, perhaps too cold, perhaps too caught up with itself, perhaps a prisoner of its own rigid formulas," he said. "Perhaps the world seems to have made the church a relic of the past, unfit for new questions. Perhaps the church could speak to people in their infancy but not to those come of age.

This spells trouble for all those who fail to see that, even when Catholic truths are convincing, their communication may not be persuasive.  

This repeats, of course, John XXIII’s distinction between that truths of Catholic faith and the way those truths are expressed--which was his argument for the “updating” that he expected from Vatican II.

The Value of Mercy: When Francis speaks of mercy:

We need a church capable of rediscovering the maternal womb of mercy…Without mercy, we have little chance nowadays of becoming part of a world of “wounded” persons in need of understanding, forgiveness and love.

He echoes John XXIII’s opening address at Vatican II, more than 50 years ago.

That spells trouble for all those who are convinced that a stricter, calmer, sterner church leadership will produce a smaller, purer, better Church. Francis clearly prefers a bigger, messier, more “catholic” and less puritanical Church.

By now you may realize that, when I say “trouble,” I do not mean a negative consequence--any more than Francis did when telling youths to cause trouble in their dioceses.  By “trouble,” Francis and I mean simply to challenge the accepted ways and establish paths that keep many of us from promoting the “civilization of love” that is the Church’s mission in the world.  This challenge applies to so many--to bishops, priests, church officials, parents and youth, political and business leaders, teachers, parents, and the youth themselves.

The more I hear this man, the more convinced I become that we must understand him as the first truly “post-Vatican II” pope.  By that I mean that he is the first pope since Vatican II who was not a participant at Vatican II.

His five predecessors experienced firsthand the ambivalence in tension that built toward the Council’s end --a tension that weakened some support for the Council’s final document:  The Church in The Modern World.  Neither John-Paul II nor Benedict XVI were entirely happy with that document, for they did not share its optimistic tone about the outside world.

But Francis was a seminarian--still a layperson--during the Council.  And his experience of it was like millions of other Catholics: secondhand, by media coverage and word of mouth.  Instead of witnessing the infighting and negotiations among the council fathers, he witnessed the euphoria that greeted the council’s work--and he witnessed too the love and gratitude for John XXIII’s courageous decision to call the Council.

I believe we are now witnessing the “troubling” openness and simplicity of a man formed, not by the Council itself, but by its impact on the rest of the Church.  Like many of us, he seems to feel that its great legacy has been neglected and compromised--and he seems determined to restore its place as the central event in Catholic life even in the 21^st century.  So more and more his papacy feels like an extension of John’s, for he seems committed to making John’s vision real--no matter how much “trouble” that causes.

  © Bernard   F. Swain PhD 2013

#397: A Truly Jesuit Pope

After merely 100 days, the new pope is already quietly charting  a different course for the Church...

It seems like Pope Francis keeps catching my eye with an outlook unlike any pope since Blessed (soon Saint) John XXIII.  This time it was the remarks Francis made to a group of papal nuncios, who nominate bishops in each country whenever there is a vacancy.  Francis was talking about the kind of candidates he wanted them to look for, and he was characteristically blunt about what kind of candidate to avoid. According to Thomas Reese in the National Catholic Reporter:

Pope Francis described the kind of persons he wants them to put forward. He wants pastors who are "close to the people, fathers and brothers." They should be "gentle, patient and merciful; animated by inner poverty, the freedom of the Lord and also by outward simplicity and austerity of life." They should "not have the psychology of 'Princes.'"…The pope specifically warned them against ambitious prelates who want to be promoted from one diocese to a more prestigious one. He cited the ancient view that bishops "are married to a Church" and should not be "in constant search of another."

     And the Catholic News Service quoted Francis acknowledging that what he was asking for was not easy:

"It's a delicate task," the pope said. "Beware of those who are ambitious, who seek the episcopacy."

These remarks reminded me that Francis is a Jesuit, and confirmed my experience of the sharp difference between the Jesuits and some diocesan priests.  The difference is often between humility and ambition, and it is illustrated by two examples from my own life.

First came the example of Father Raymond Swords, SJ.  He was president of Holy Cross when I arrived there. He held degrees in theology and mathematics, taught mathematics at Holy Cross, and then found himself president in a time of great cultural upheaval.  While generally regarded as a low-key, uncharismatic figure, he nonetheless became the focal point of some dramatic events during my senior year (1969-1970).

President Swords (left) confers an honorary degree

 The fall term brought the Vietnam Moratorium, a mass movement of protest against the war that garnered huge crowds demonstrating in most major cities across the United States.  In Worcester, Massachusetts (the state’s second largest city and home of Holy Cross) a rally was held on city hall plaza.  Fr. Swords appeared on the podium and announced today he spoke, not for the college, but for himself as a Catholic, as a priest, and as a Jesuit.  He explained that he had reluctantly concluded that the war in Vietnam could no longer satisfy the requirements of the Church’s just war theory, and so he felt compelled to call for an end to the war--and to urge all Catholics to do the same.

Suddenly, Ray Swords was no longer just the chief administrator of our school.  Suddenly he became our leader.  The assembled protesters gave him a standing ovation.

In December a labor dispute led to the expulsion of some black students and the decision by all the blacks on campus to leave Holy Cross permanently (see CrossCurrents #346, A “Small” Crisis Recalled, for details).  After several days of pressure on the administration to restore order on campus, Fr. Swords arrived at a packed “town meeting” of students to announce an amnesty for the expelled students and the creation of an “open university” to reflect on the lessons of recent events and their implications for the college’s future.  That night he received his second standing ovation from the students.

That spring Nixon invaded Cambodia, the National Guard killed four students at Kent State University, and Holy Cross went on a general strike (as did hundreds of U.S. campuses).  It was a time when many college presidents were being hanged in effigy on their own campuses, but at Holy Cross the senior class voted to invite Raymond Swords--their own president--to be their commencement speaker.  In his address, he predicted that the future of the college would be secure if future classes followed our example of moral conviction and committed action:

What you young graduates are completing here today--your four years of living and learning at Holy Cross--has had no real parallel in the past history of this college.  But most of all it is different because what you are commencing here today is--I believe and I hope--something new in the history of Holy Cross.  That “something new” is the beginning of a life-long commitment to fundamental change--social and political, cultural and religious--a commencement grounded on a level of awareness and concern never before achieved by so many in so short a time.  In a profound and genuine sense the class of 1970 has been radicalized as no other class before it.

 When he finished, the entire class rose to its feet and to deliver his third standing ovation of the year.

This man left the mark of his indelible character that year on our class and on our school.

 One year later he finished his 10-year term as Holy Cross president and moved on--to become president of Cranwell Prep, the Jesuit high school In Lenox, Massachusetts. He later led Jesuit high schools in Manhattan and Portland, Maine.

To me, that move—from college president to high school work—typified the Jesuit commitment to service, a commitment rooted in the dedication to one’s work regardless of its status.  Loyola’s maxim “Age quod agis” (“Do what you are doing”) meant that ambition was out of place in Jesuit Life, that one’s mission was to contribute to the whole mission of the Jesuits and of the Church.  “Promotions” were not permanent, and “demotions” were not punishment.  The alternation of “higher” and “lower” positions made Jesuit Life humble by design.

That this is precisely what some commentators noted as a significant aspect of electing a Jesuit as pope. Here is Rev. Richard Ryscavage S.J., a professor of sociology at  Fairfield University:

“St. Ignatius Loyola never wanted us to become bishops. Some exceptions were made in the mission territories, where Jesuits were sometimes the most qualified candidates for becoming leader of a diocese. At times, the Pope himself would intervene and promote a Jesuit bishop to the College of Cardinals. These were exceptions to the rule. St. Ignatius wanted to prevent us from ‘climbing the Church ladder’ by ambitioning high offices.”

Fr. Ryscavage explained that St. Ignatius’ original objection to seeking higher office was in response to the clerical careerism so prevalent at the time. Thus Jesuits take an additional vow not to seek high office.

All of this contrasts sharply with my experience of a certain kind of diocesan priest. The truth is that clerical careerism never died out.  Over my 40 years in church work I’ve occasionally encountered priests who projected a certain ambition.  I cannot describe concrete symptoms of that ambition; it always was a kind of intangible aura such men carried with them like baggage.  But when I felt it, I would tell myself (and often tell others too): “That man wants to be a bishop.” As it turns out, every single one of those men did become bishops, their ambitions fulfilled. Many of them lead dioceses today far from their native local church.

I was seldom privy to the details of the clerical politics that produced such bishops, but I’ll never forget the remark of one pastor, a close family friend, who early in his priesthood had declined the tempting invitation to become a bishop’s secretary (often a step toward higher office).  He confessed to me that he was indeed tempted by that prospect of higher office, but even then he knew he was uncomfortable taking that path.  He described “climbing the church ladder” to me.

“There are only two ways to get ahead,” he told me.  “One is to climb over other guys.  The other is to push them out of the way.” He decided he wanted none of it, became a pastor instead, and stayed in his small, out-of-the-way parish for nearly 30 years until retirement. 
He and I both knew one exception to the rule, however.  One of his seminary classmates, Dan Hart, had left a high diocesan office

Fr. Dan Hart

to return to parish work, where he and I were colleagues.  This priest taught fourth grade CCD and worked with me on baptismal and confirmation programs.  One day, out of the blue, he was named an auxiliary bishop, and several years later became bishop of a New England diocese of his own.  

I always said the highest compliment I could pay him was this: he always remained “the same old Dan Hart” I had known in the parish.  And that was enough to make him a terrific bishop: caring, accessible, solicitous, an authentic shepherd.

Bishop Dan Hart

True, he had never been a great parish priest.  He was a tepid preacher, a dry teacher, an uninspiring liturgist. Yet his very ordinariness made him a good bishop.  “After all,” I would explain to others, “The standards for bishops are much lower than for parish priests!”

Sadly, the last 10 years have demonstrated that truth, and worse: those few priests who sunk below the usual standard and abused children with their power were the very priests that bishops worked hardest to protect.

Ironically, neither Ray Swords nor Dan Hart ever served as a pastor, but they had the qualities a pastor needs. What they proved was that, pastoral skills aside, the personal qualities of humility, simplicity, and authenticity are enough to make a bishop great.  That’s why, 43 years after my college commencement, I’m sure that Pope Francis is onto something.  If we could have more bishops with qualities like Ray Swords and Dan Hart--bishops who adopt a Jesuit spirit of avoiding ambition--the Church will be better for it.

And these are precisely the gifts Pope Francis has brought to his job as Bishop of Rome.  Here is hoping we now get more bishops in his mold. 

  © Bernard   F. Swain PhD 2013

#393: Lost and Found--Pope Francis Retrieves Vatican II

After nearly 35 years of Catholic officials obscuring the vision of Vatican Council II, the new pope may already be rescuing its legacy.

The recent homily in which Pope Francis proclaimed Christ has redeemed all humanity, even atheists, has triggered seemingly endless commentary in the media - - print, electronic, and online. (homily text & video at http://en.radiovaticana.va/news/2013/05/22/pope_at_mass:_culture_of_encounter_is_the_foundation_of_peace/en1-694445).

But most of it misses the point.  Amid the debates--over “Did the pope endorse universalism?” or “What is the difference between redemption and salvation?”--most observers (other than James Carroll) miss these facts: (1) Francis’ remark about atheists was neither new nor controversial; (2) his real shift was to leap back over the legacy of John-Paul II and Benedict XVI to invoke the extroverted optimism of Paul VI.  He thus retrieved Vatican II’s version of the Church’s mission - - a version that has been out of favor for 35 years.

Francis may be simple, but he is not simple-minded, so his startling break with his predecessors is couched in his soft proposal to build a “culture of encounter.”

Why does this matter?  Because an “encounter culture” is quite different from the “counter-culture”--and that difference could re-set the Church’s course for years to come.

If memory serves, I first heard the Church described as a “counter -culture” nearly 30 years ago, when Bernard Law took

Bernard Law

over the Archdiocese of Boston in 1984.  Six years after the election of John Paul II, he used the term to express his conviction that Catholicism should not conform or even adapt its traditions to the demands of modern culture.  Rather than blend Catholic faith with the surrounding secular culture, he wanted Catholics to hold fast to an alternative way of life that would “counter” prevailing mores and values.

Back then I found his terminology clever but troubling.  As a child of the 1960s, I already considered myself a proud member of the “counter-culture”--but to me that meant a wave of progressive movements ranging from rock music to civil rights to antiwar politics to the sexual revolution to the questioning of all authority, including church authority.  We were rebelling against much of post-World War II American culture: its conformity, its complacency, its superficiality, its materialism, its militarism, its racism, its spiritual impoverishment.

What Bernard Law called “culture-culture” meant something quite different.  It included scolding Boston College (as well as the students and parents gathered for commencement) for not being true to  its Catholic identity.  It included refusing to allow women to serve as Eucharistic ministers.  It included refusing to allow a Knights of Columbus fundraiser to serve alcohol.  It included forcing the Archdiocese’s charismatics to move their annual conference to the cathedral (despite its inadequate seating capacity) and then imposing his own agenda on the day.  Law was not into questioning authority.  For him, “counter-culture” meant imposing authority to make sure Catholics behaved the way he wanted them to.

I admit I resented this theft and reshaping of the term “counter-culture.” But I soon learned he was not alone. Increasingly in the 1980s and 1990s, US bishops, conservative commentators, and some theologians promoted the “counter cultural” mission of the Church on issues like abortion, sexual morality, “catholic identity,” priestly celibacy, sex education, and eventually same-sex marriage. 

They were so successful that the term “counter-culture” lost its original meaning for people like me, and came to be a code-word for a move to establish a certain understanding of Vatican Council II. This understanding saw the modern world embracing a “culture of death” and countered it with a “culture of life.” The opposition was as clear as black and white, and treated every church position as non-negotiable.

Vatican II

Within the Church itself, this movement was labeled “the reform of the reform.” It was driven by the belief that Catholicism after Vatican II had become too friendly, too accommodating to the modern world around it, and was in jeopardy of losing its own identity.  Supposedly this was the fault of those who exploited the “reforms” of Vatican II as an excuse to abandon traditional teachings and practices in favor of every new cultural trend.  Only by “reforming the reforms” could the Church achieve its “true mission” as a counter-culture.

That is why, in rejecting this view, Pope Francis is provoking such reactions.  In theory, no one is more “counter” to Christian faith than an atheist.  Yet Francis asserted that:

The Lord has redeemed all of us, all of us, with the blood of Christ: all of us, not just Catholics.  Everyone!...  Even the atheists.  Everyone!

This is what Francis means by a “culture of encounter”: that whoever does good, regardless of their beliefs, creates a common ground where we can meet one another:

If we, each doing our own part, if we do good to others, if we meet there, doing good, and we go slowly, gently, little by little, we will make that culture of encounter: we need that so much. We must meet one another doing good. ‘But I don’t believe, Father, I am an atheist!’ But do good: we will meet one another there.

Such talk rings loud echoes for me of the talk Pope Paul VI gave at the final session of Vatican II in 1965:

Secular humanism, revealing itself in its horrible anti-clerical

Pope Paul VI

reality has, in a certain sense, defied the council. The religion of the God who became man has met the religion (for such it is) of man who makes himself God. And what happened? Was there a clash, a battle, a condemnation? There could have been, but there was none. The old story of the Samaritan has been the model of the spirituality of the council. A feeling of boundless sympathy has permeated the whole of it…But we call upon those who term themselves modern humanists…to give the council credit at least for one quality and to recognize our own new type of humanism: we, too, in fact, we more than any others, honor mankind.

Paul is clearly talking about an encounter between the Church and secular culture that can produce a working partnership--and he knew full well that some Catholics would criticize the openness required for such an encounter:

The council…has been deeply committed to the study of the modern world. Never before perhaps, so much as on this occasion, has the Church felt the need to know, to draw near to, to understand, to penetrate, serve and evangelize the society in which she lives; and to get to grips with it, almost to run after it, in its rapid and continuous change. This attitude, a response to the distances and divisions we have witnessed over recent centuries…between the Church and secular society—this attitude has been strongly and unceasingly at work in the council; so much so that some have been inclined to suspect that an easy-going and excessive responsiveness to the outside world, to passing events, cultural fashions, temporary needs, an alien way of thinking...may have swayed persons and acts of the ecumenical synod, at the expense of the fidelity which is due to tradition…We do not believe that this shortcoming should be imputed to it, to its real and deep intentions, to its authentic manifestations.

Observers have mostly overlooked this key fact about Francis: he is the first post-Vatican II pope!  The last five popes were all participants of the Council between 1962 and 1965, but Francis was only a seminary student.  He heard about the Council like the rest of us, from various reports and the media and perhaps by word of mouth. Unlike Benedict, who by the Council’s end felt it was moving too far and getting out of his control, Francis received the Council’s work as a blessing.  He took Pope Paul’s openness as an inspired vision.  Indeed, in his homily he warned against negative attitudes that insist on a “counter-culture” instead of an “encounter.” As reported by Vatican Radio, he contrasts the “counter” of the apostles with the “encounter” of Jesus:

The disciples, Pope Francis explains, “were a little intolerant,” closed off by the idea of ​​possessing the truth, convinced that “those who do not have the truth, cannot do good.” “This was wrong...Jesus broadens the horizon.” Pope Francis said, “The root of this possibility of doing good – that we all have – is in creation.”

Francis is, in effect, depicting Jesus as a bridge-builder among people.  This fits perfectly with our belief that Jesus is the Christ that bridges the gap, not only between people, but also between the human family and the divine family we called Trinity.  And this also fits perfectly the role of the pope, whose titles include “Pontiff” (from pontifex, meaning bridge-builder).

Francis demonstrates reaching out to Encounter

Francis contrasts this open-minded bridgebuilding encounter with the close-minded attitude that leads to conflict: “This ‘closing off’ that imagines that those outside, everyone, cannot do good is a wall that leads to war.”

This reminds us again of Paul VI, who described the Church's role in the world this way addressing the United Nations in 1965:
We here celebrate the epilogue of a weary pilgrimage in search of a conversation with the entire world, ever since the command was given to us: Go and bring the good news to all peoples.

Paul VI Addressing the UN General Assembly

 I, for one, am delighted and encouraged to hear the new pope talk this way.  Such talk is important not because it is about atheists but because it is about Catholics.  Francis is saying we should not be a people content to “counter” those who differ with us.  We must, as a matter of our faith, have the courage to “encounter” them.  
This means we must engage in a true conversation--not simply sharing our faith-based message, but also listening to the message of modern, even secular culture with an openness to the possibility that its message also brings wisdom that can enhance and enrich us.

Not only that, but Francis is saying we must build an “encounter culture” that leads away from conflict to the peace that Christ promised:

“Doing good” is a principle that unites all humanity, beyond the diversity of ideologies and religions, and creates the “culture of encounter” that is the foundation of peace.

For me, there is hope yet that the real renewal of Vatican Council II has not been lost on this pope, a man who has the wisdom to see the dangers lurking in the modern world but also has the courage to reach out and encounter it.  This was the true message of Vatican II, which has been nearly lost amid all the “counter-culture” negativism of recent Catholic leadership. I’m beginning to think that Francis is just the man to rescue Vatican II for us--just in the nick of time.

  © Bernard F. Swain PhD 2013

#388: Are the Pope’s Hands “Dirty”?

Pope Francis is the target of some backlash to his generally favorable media coverage.

Over the years I have criticized Catholic bishops repeatedly for lacking prudence.  Long dubbed the queen of all virtues, prudence knows when insisting on the right principle can do more harm than good.  Too often the hierarchy becomes preoccupied with crusading for some particular cause in a way that, by displaying a strident or even arrogant tone, diminishes their influence.

But the hierarchy has no monopoly on such failings.

Some progressive Catholics become so possessed of their own agenda they become blind to all else.  Like some bishops, they push their point so aggressively they lose much of their potential audience.  They end up, like the bishops, preaching to the choir.

A wise Jesuit once offered me constructive criticism: “You are very convincing,” he told me, “but you are not very persuasive.” He meant I was good at making a strong case for my point of view, but not good at making people want to agree with me.  He meant I lacked prudence.  This distressed me, and I’ve spent 25 years trying to fix that.  It also distresses me when progressives commit the same error, because I often agree with them at the beginning but end up not wanting to be their ally.

My inbox recently contained an example of this.  The email contained theologian Mary Hunt’s critique of Pope Francis I from her website (http://www.waterwomensalliance.org/ ). On many issues we have common ground, but her argument does not do them justice.

She describes calling a friend in Buenos Aires “to join in that country’s pride” in the election of their archbishop, yet in the next paragraph makes it clear that she already judged the entire papal election fraudulent:

 The process was flawed on the face of it by the lack of women, young people, and lay people. It was flawed by a dearth of democracy. Not even the seagull that sat on the chimney awaiting the decision was enough to persuade that the Holy Spirit was really in charge.

There is no basis here for “pride,” so her earlier remark rings contrived and disingenuous.

She follows by calling for “structural changes in the kyriarchal model of the church” rather than “cosmetic” or “symbolic” changes.  She argues that the conclave elected a Latin American as a “good business decision,” since European Catholicism has “lost market share”--but then notes that mass attendance in Argentina is as bad as in France!

Perez Esquivel Receiving the Nobel Prize , 1980

She says she “got an education about social justice” working with Nobel Peace laureate Adolfo Pérez Esquivel in Buenos Aires, then devotes 1/3 of her article to linking Francis (Jorge Bergoglio) to Argentina’s brutal “dirty war” even though Pérez Esquivel himself has dismissed such slander:

Adolfo Pérez Esquivel assured today that elected pope Jorge Bergoglio "had no links with the dictatorship” that ruled Argentina between the years 1976-1983.

Francis and Perez Esquivel, 2013

 Speaking to BBC News, Perez Esquivel said that “there were bishops who were accomplices of the dictatorship, but it was not the case of Bergoglio.”

Hunt employs a classic “red herring” tactic that echoes McCarthyism. Alluding to the case of two Jesuits kidnapped in 1976 by the military junta, she asks:

Did the Jesuit superior-now-Pope Francis call the military dictators and agree to their kidnapping? No one is accusing him of this.

Then why does she ask, if “no one” is making the accusation? But of course Bergoglio HAS been accused of this, and Hunt’s question dredges up the slander once more. Then she adds that “Padre Jorge [Bergoglio] is alleged to have intervened with military leaders for the release of the two Jesuits.”

I confess, this is the first time I have ever seen anyone “alleged” to have done something good!  All my dictionaries link “alleged” with either bad things (murder, rape, burglary, conspiracy) or doubtful outcomes (a cure, a miracle)--never with a past good deed.  Hunt’s cynicism is thinly veiled by such language, and anyhow it ignores the known facts.

The evidence is that Bergoglio (then Jesuit provincial, not a bishop) judged the two Jesuits to be in danger, and acted to protect their safety.  When they ignored him and were kidnapped, he acted on their behalf, as he described to biographer Sergio Rubin:

Bergoglio Rides Transit in Buenos Aires

“Because of their work with some priests in the slums they were exposed to the paranoia of the witch hunt…That same night when I heard of the kidnappings I started to move. I saw [dictator] Videla twice and I saw [dictator] Massera.

 The Associated Press adds more details:

Both men were freed after Bergoglio took extraordinary, behind-the-scenes action to save them, including persuading dictator Jorge Videla's family priest to call in sick so that Bergoglio could say Mass in the junta leader's home, where he privately appealed for mercy. His intervention likely saved their lives, but Bergoglio never shared the details until Rubin interviewed him for the 2010 biography.  Bergoglio told Rubin that he regularly hid people on church property during the dictatorship, and once gave his identity papers to a man with similar features, enabling him to escape across the border. But all this was done in secret, at a time when church leaders publicly endorsed the junta and called on Catholics to restore their "love for country" despite the terror in the streets.

Following Bergoglio’s election, journalists located the surviving kidnap victim Franz Jalics, and he provided these statements:

Franz Jalics Today

With the permission of Archbishop Aramburu and the then-Provincial Fr. Jorge Mario Bergoglio I moved together with a confrere into a “Favela,” one of the city’s slums. From there we continued our teaching at the university….In the civil-war-like situation back then…the two of us in the slum had contact neither with the junta nor with the guerrillas. Partly due to the lack of information and through targeted misinformation our situation was also misunderstood within the church.…

 These are the facts: Orlando Yorio and I were not reported by Father Bergoglio…It is thus wrong to claim that our capture was initiated by Father Bergoglio…Before, I too tended to believe that we were the victims of having been reported. By the late ’90s, however, it became clear to me after many conversations that this assumption was unfounded…”

It was only years later that we had the opportunity to talk with Father Bergoglio…to discuss the events. Following that, we celebrated Mass publicly together and hugged solemnly. I am reconciled to the events and consider the matter to be closed. I wish Pope Francis God's rich blessings for his office.

At that time, Burgoglio was Jesuit provincial.  Nevertheless, Hunt compares the Argentine bishops’ dirty war behavior to the U.S. Bishops in the sex-abuse scandal, and compares Bergoglio to Bernard Law.  Thus she paints Burgoglio with a wide brush of guilt by association, much like the Argentine journalist Gabriel Pasquini, who attacked Burgoglio with this critique:

Never, in the years he headed the Catholic Church in Argentina, did he acknowledge its complicity in the dictatorship, much less ask for forgiveness. Will he do so now, from the Vatican?

But Pasquini is wrong. Bergoglio became Archbishop of Buenos Aires 1998, and in 2000 was party to this statement from the Bishops conference of Argentina:

We want to confess before God everything we have done badly…We share everyone’s pain and once again ask the forgiveness of everyone we failed or didn’t support as we should have.

Apparently Hunt believes such guilt by association is relevant because it links Bergoglio’s refusal to support liberation theology with the past and current plight of Latin American society.  The premise is that only liberation theology is acceptable; other theological positions “deepen and entrench social injustice.” Specifically, she decries Burgoglio’s opposition to “divorce, abortion, contraception, same-sex marriage,” and then claims:

He shows no evidence from his Argentina actions that he will be any more responsive than his predecessor to changing policies and structures that oppress the world’s poor.

This line of attack troubles me on several grounds.  First, Hunt’s list of social justice issues focuses narrowly on the sex-related issues of our U.S. “culture wars.”

Second, she ignores the “theological positions” entrenched in the social encyclicals of the past 50 years, which (as I’ve detailed many times before) include positions on human rights, health, income inequality, immigration, trade, and arms that are well to the left of the Democratic Party. 

Third, as prominent a liberation theologian as Leonardo Boff (himself once silenced by the Vatican) has expressed support for Francis despite their theological differences:

With Pope Francis, a Church of the third millennium is being inaugurated--far from the palaces and in the midst of the peoples and their cultures.

Asked about the “dirty war,” Boff got more specific:

I'm wondering what interest some groups have in raising this question and not talking about the serious crisis in the Church and its meaning in the face of the crisis of humankind.

Leonardo Boff

Maybe -- this I'll concede -- he could have been more prophetic, like Bishop Hélder Câmara and Cardinal Paulo Evaristo Arns were in Brazil.…The question is political and for me, it's which side the person is on--the side of the poor, of those who suffer evil inequality? Or of the status quo that wants unlimited growth and a culture of consumption?...Bergoglio took the side of those victims and demanded social justice. If we don't understand this, we're getting away from the main point.

[read more: http://www.ipsnews.net/2013/03/qa-what-matters-isnt-bergoglio-and-his-past-but-francis-and-his-future/ ]

Finally, Hunt’s attack backfires by betraying the very fault she decries.  You might have wondered, earlier in this article, what “kyriarchal” means.  It’s a recent coinage from the Greek word for “Lord,” referring to lordly behavior that anyone uses to impose their views or will on others. Feminist theologians use the term to suggest that unjust treatment is not just limited to sexism, or even to men.  Anyone can abuse their relationships with others in this way.  Indeed, even feminists can be prone to “kyriarchal” behavior, as one feminist blogger explained [http://myecdysis.blogspot.com/]:

Let's not pretend that just because there are not many propertied males mucking around the fem blogosphere, there aren't queen bees and wanna bees exercising the same kind of behavior.  So when we talk about woman asserting power over other womyn, we're talking kyriarchy.  When you witness woman trying to dominate, define, outline the "movement" or even what an ally should be - that's the kyriarchal ethos strong at work. 

For me, Hunt’s case suffers precisely from this problem.  So sure is she that only her “theological positions” can serve justice, she feels free to impose her perspective with  a version of events designed to convince us that anyone who differs with her views at best unwittingly promotes injustice, or at worst is complicit in it. 

She does not persuade. She plays with facts. She asserts, “The controversy over Bergoglio’s role in the kidnapping of two Jesuits during this period is instructive”—but only instructs us that character assassination is alive and well.

Hunt decries “papal theatrics” which “keep the focus on the personal and spiritual, off the political and theological”--as if Catholic Social Teaching does not focus on both, and as if Bergoglio himself has not spoken of them both together:

Bergoglio as Archbishop

We live in the most unequal part of the world, which has grown the most yet reduced misery the least. The unjust distribution of goods persists, creating a situation of social sin that cries out to Heaven and limits the possibilities of a fuller life for so many…..
[To a gathering of Latin American bishops in 2007]

Hunt opens her final paragraph this way: “It is early to opine about the pontificate of Pope Francis”--but of course that is exactly what she has already done!  Her devotion to her agenda is so blinkered she cannot see how transparent it is--and how her credibility suffers

  © Bernard F. Swain PhD 2013

#386: "Habemus Papam": Back to a Relevant Church?

White Smoke = "Habemus Papam"-- But Who?

 As the media continues to analyze the election of Pope Francis I, I am offering some historical perspective:

It took less than 10 minutes for Pope Francis to win over the hearts of millions watching his first appearance on the balconies Saint Peter’s Basilica.  He greeted the crowd with “Buona sera,” invited them to join him in prayer for Benedict XVI, joked about arriving as pope from “the end of the world,” and asked the crowd the favor of praying for him in silence before he blessed them.

Pope Francis I Bows after asking the people to bless him.

 He left smiling, only to come back, and grabbed the microphone again to thank the crowd for coming, and bid them to go home and get some rest, promising he would see them again soon.

We realize how difficult the current moment is for the Catholic Church when we see the way such simple gestures triggered wild and enthusiastic optimism that Francis would bring genuine reform to Catholicism and new hope to the world.

The Argentines unfurled their flag and led the cheers

 Given the crises and divisions within the Catholic world, and the deeper challenges this pope faces (see CrossCurrents #385, The New Pope’s Challenges) it is remarkable yet perhaps also understandable how little it takes to create a sense that this is a turning point.  That is probably because, in matters of faith, style can be just as important as substance.  And this pope has already demonstrated a different style of papacy from his immediate predecessors.

Yes, this pope is a conservative (like virtually all the other cardinals in the conclave.)  But that simply means he is not interested in rewriting or revising church doctrines.  It does not mean that nothing will change.

After all, Blessed Pope John XXIII, perhaps the most beloved pope of the last 100 years, was also doctrinal conservative.  And the council he called, Vatican II, did not even have doctrine on its agenda.  It was a resolutely “pastoral council,” meaning it was more concerned with the way the Church operated in the world, and how it expressed its message, then in any corrections or developments of the message itself.

John was beloved not because he changed church teachings but because he combined a vision for how the Catholic Church could thrive in the modern world with a personal style that made his vision credible, persuasive, attractive, and thus relevant to millions of people around the world.

It is no accident, I think, that three commentators on the PBS coverage following the election of Pope Francis, when asked to compare him to another pope, immediately chose, not Benedict, not John-Paul II, not Paul VI, but John XXIII.

Like John, Francis has been elected at an advanced age, and presumably will serve as a “transition pope” who offers not a long papacy but rather the possibility of a significant shift.  Like John, his bearing is strikingly different from his predecessors, and he already shows an uncanny gift for establishing rapport with ordinary people.

Immediately after his first appearance, media reports had him declining the private car back to his hotel to join the other cardinals on the shuttle bus, and packing his bags and paying his bills by himself “to set a good example.”

My betting is there are many more good examples to come.  And they will not go unnoticed, especially by young people.

Even this early, it does not appear that the shift in style is unintentional.  As many commentators have noted, by choosing to be the first pope called “Francis” this man aligns himself with the popular “grassroots” saints of the Church’s history rather than with its towering hierarchical powers.  Everything we know about his lifestyle and his work with the poor suggests that the conclave chose this Jesuit as pope knowing full well that this would shift the focus of Catholic life almost overnight.

My daughter once told me “Dad, when you say ‘Catholic’ you mean social justice; that’s not what ‘Catholic’ means to most people.” I suspect my two sons would agree with her, and they would all be right on both counts.  I do mean social justice when I say “Catholic,” and I have found, in more than 40 years of parish work, that social justice still remains on the margins of most people’s Catholic identity.  For most, it has yet to become a core element in their faith.

But my three kids are all graduates of Jesuit institutions, and from the beginning to the end of their days in those schools they repeatedly heard the phrase “educating men and women for others,” and they also heard about the “preferential option for the poor.” They knew that, in theory at least, the Jesuits and the institutions they ran stood for a tradition of public and social service designed to build the solidarity of the human family and even peace in the world.

None of this represents anything new in Catholic doctrine.  But with this Jesuit pope it could represent something new in the way the Catholic Church styles itself before the rest of the world.

CrossCurrents readers are familiar with two themes in my recent work.  First: the papacy itself has been in transition ever since the election of John XXIII.  Second: too often in recent years the hierarchy has created the public impression of being obsessed with matters sexual.

Pope Francis can act on both these fronts to dramatic effect.  His personal behavior, manner, and style can further transform the papacy from the stern imperial monarchy of the early 20^th century to the new mold of the public servant of all peoples everywhere—a people’s papacy. 

And his actions and teachings can shift our focus away from a preoccupation with sex to a focus on the true joys and sorrows of a world struggling to overcome injustice and groping blindly for peace.

Liberal Catholics remember with great fondness the euphoria about Catholic renewal that followed Vatican II in 1965, but they often forget that this had nothing to do with dramatic changes in official teachings.  It had to do with (1) the retrieval of many ancient values and concepts that had been lost along the way, and with (2) the suddenly extroverted style of a papacy and a Church that for too long had been closeted behind the Vatican walls.  These two shifts--a mining of ancient resources and an opening of church windows to modern life--enabled the Church to begin a new kind of dialogue with contemporary life and build bridges to people well beyond the boundaries of the Catholic population.

That began again last night when the pope stressed that his blessing was not just for the people in Saint Peter’s Square and not even only for the planet’s 1.2 billion Catholics; instead he offered his blessing to “All people of goodwill everywhere.”

It may be too early to predict, yet it is high time for the hope, that this pope will complete the transformations begun by John XXIII, put a renewed partnership of Church and world back on the map of Catholic action, and show the way for our Church to reach out to all people of goodwill and once again make the Catholic Church what its mission calls it to be: a global force for good in the world.

If that happens, Pope Francis may take us back to the future that we believed in, once upon a time, a time when the Church was still relevant.

© Bernard F. Swain PhD 2013