The perpendiculars of our worldAre at odds with one another:
Spruce-boles & boat-masts spar;
Also dock-pier pillars…
Like everyone else, we’re happy to have a pacific face smiling from the Vatican. From the very beginning, when the Argentine bishop Jorge Mario Bergoglio became the first Pope Francis, his choice of the humble saint of Assisi for his name suggested a turn in direction from Pope Benedict XVI, whose résumé and name choice reaffirmed the pomp and circumstance of the Vatican hierarchy.
Pope Benedict, when he was Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, had acquired the unfortunate nickname of “the Pope’s Rottweiler,” and it’s difficult for even a Pope to shake off an alliterative and Dickensian nickname like Rottweiler Ratzinger. (In his pre-papal days, he was known as a strict enforcer of orthodoxy, silencing many of the more liberal priests in the Church and — what became important later — obstructing inquiries about the Church’s sex abuse scandal.)
Although Pope Benedict at 87 is a decade older than Pope Francis, it’s not age that caused his resignation, which caught almost everyone by surprise. Instead, it was his inability to handle the hypocrisy within the Church, which had been long rumored, and brought to murky light by a report stamped “Pontifical Secret” and leaked to Italian journals. The culprit behind these “VatiLeaks” wasn’t whistleblower Edward Snowden but — like a grade-B crime novel — the butler, Pablo Gabriele, the Pope’s personal manservant. In a sensational trial, Gabriele was convicted of “aggravated theft,” and soon pardoned by Benedict. The Pope wasn’t implicated himself, but the scandal and turmoil escalated, involving accusations of money laundering, widespread corruption, and closeted homosexuality, the daily reports and rumors reading like the script of America’s hit political series, House of Cards.
Into this Roman feeding frenzy stepped Pope Francis, with his soft voice and shy (but sly) smile. “Wretched are those who are vindictive and spiteful,” he said. “If someone is gay who searches for the Lord and has goodwill, who am I to judge?” And more lightly, “I love tango, and I used to dance when I was young.” How can you not like him?
Compared to previous Popes, Francis is letting in some sun — and sunlight might in time lead to action. In addition, he’s touchingly warm to his conflicted predecessor, Benedict, living nearby. Francis, like his namesake, the patron saint of animals, seems to even love Rottweilers.
The shadow — where there’s sunlight there’s always a shadow — is that not only do the poor and liberals love Pope Francis, but the rich and conservatives love him, too. Rick Santorum — who has compared homosexuality to man-on-dog sex — loves him. This should make us nervous. “What he’s doing is the right thing,” Santorum says. John Boehner has invited Francis to speak to Congress.
So far, at least, Pope Francis has said the right things, but as yet hasn’t changed any of the Church’s actual practices. Until he, or it, does, women will remain second-class citizens with its patriarchal stand against birth control; and poor families will remain poor, with its stand on abortion; and the rich (Hobby Lobby comes to mind) will continue to donate huge amounts of their tax-supported money to the forces that keep it that way.
Nevertheless, the Pope’s gentle and forgiving voice is a gift of grace in a harsh world. Some have complained he has yet to give orders to his troops, but the Pope isn’t a general: he’s a leader by example. Like Gandhi, he sends out signals with his public behavior. Who can tell what will come of this? Perhaps, at this Easter-time anyway, this is all that can be done.
So, good health and long life to Pope Francis — and Happy Easter, everyone!
What wright is capable of right-wising
Things tilting, collapsing, & capsizing,
Except encompassing compassion?
—Both quotes from “Ecstatic Task of the Eschaton” by Tony Stoneburner (in Gatherings, published by Limekiln Press, Granville, Ohio, 1997)