Popes, Presidents and Lies

Right, so now we know. The pope—the new one, not the old one—has come out and said it, and the Vatican has not denied it; so that’s pretty high on the credibility scale. Now then, hold on to your seats, take a deep breath, and prepare for the unimaginable.

There is a gay lobby in the Vatican.

Also, of course, many many saints, said the pope. But yes, in addition to that gay lobby, there is a “stream of corruption.”

You remember the question of Ratzinger, the old pope, who retired last February and trotted off to Castel Gondolfo, to spend pleasant days and nights with his personal secretary, Padre Georg, a hunk who makes Clooney look like Archie Bunker. Here’s a sweet photo of them together:

Right, I’d be grinning too, if I had that guy that close to me. Well, the old pope is proposing to live the rest of his days in the Vatican; Padre Georg will be secretary during the day for the new pope, and then walk home where he will be secretary during the evenings for the old pope.

People in Italy found this situation unusual; as one reporter put it, the pope routinely enjoys robust health until the day he dies. For a man not known as a trailblazer, Ratzinger caused millions of jaws to drop the day he decided to retire.

The press then speculated—was there any reason that the pope decided to retire? Age and frail health are nothing new to the papacy—what had changed that had made it necessary for the pope to retire? Two things came up, two very old things: sex and money.

There was talk of a secret report written by three cardinals; the report, it was said, would be given to the new pope personally by the old pope. The Vatican press agent, of course, completely dismissed the idea of a “gay lobby,” essentially calling the idea absurd.

Well, chatting in Spanish to the Latin American and Caribbean Confederation of Religious (CLAR), Francis dropped the news, and the press office, declaring the event private, had no comment.

I’m thinking a lot lately about secrecy and deception. The Vatican knew about a situation and lied; the head of our national security agency, James R. Clapper, looked a congressman straight in the eye and lied. And I am trying to remember—when was the last time I lied?

Well, I’m either a completely dishonest person—and thus incapable of seeing the terrible truth that I’m prevaricating at a prodigious rate—or I’m pretty honest. Barring social lies, I really can’t remember the last time I lied to anyone.

Cancel that—I pleaded a headache recently to get out of an engagement. But I did feel guilty about it. Which, perhaps, is more than Clapper feels; here’s his justification for lying to Senator Wyden:

 "I have great respect for Senator Wyden," Clapper said in an interview with NBC on Sunday. "I thought, though in retrospect, I was asked-- 'When are you going to start-- stop beating your wife' kind of question, which is meaning not-- answerable necessarily by a simple yes or no. So I responded in what I thought was the most truthful, or least untruthful manner by saying no."

This is an insult. A senator asked you a question, Clapper, and there was nothing of a trick or ruse about it. It was a simple, direct question that made you uncomfortable, and so you decided that it couldn’t be answered by a simple yes or no. But what did you do? You said, “no, Sir.” And then weaseled around by saying, “not wittingly.”

What’s worse is the White House’s response to the controversy. Here’s CBS News on the subject:

President Obama "certainly believes that Director Clapper has been straight and direct in the answers he's given" Congress, White House spokesman Jay Carney said Tuesday, adding that Clapper has been "aggressive in providing as much information as possible to the American people, to the press." 

Well, Clapper certainly was straight and direct. “No, Sir,” is both; unfortunately, it wasn’t true.

That said, no one really gets off the hook. Obama says that all the activities of the National Security Agency have been vetted both by congress and by federal judges. If true—and it hurts to write those words—then everybody knew, and it took a 29 year-old kid, now branded as a traitor, to tell the people the truth. But if true, why was Senator Wyden asking the question in the first place?

And tell me, how does it jeopardize national security by telling the public in general terms how we’re going about doing national intelligence?

The Obama administration is saying, as did the Bush administration, “trust us.” Unfortunately, neither administration has proved worthy—on this issue—of trust.

Notes from a Machination of the Father of Lies

It may be that I’ve lived in Latin culture too long, that our love of conspiracy theory has seeped into my pores, but I think the whole thing was set up.

We have an ex-pope—the Spanish newspaper El País calls him Papa Interruptus—who, according to the paper just mentioned, was virtually isolated in the Vatican. So who was in charge?

The Curia.

Which has always had a sinister reputation—popes come and go, but the Curia stays. So that means that if you are youngish—30 or 40, you don’t get too close to any one pope, a mistake Ratzinger made with John Paul II. The reason is obvious—when the pope dies, where will you be?

And the Curia, I remember reading, has an interesting history. If it’s byzantine—and it is, there are nine congregations, three courts, 12 pontifical councils, three pontifical commissions, five pontifical academies, plus the Labor Office, and let’s not forget those Swiss Guards!—there’s a reason. The Vatican, you remember, had lots of states for centuries; there had to be a body to administer them. Well, the states are gone, but in the nature of organizations everywhere, the Curia, with all its labyrinthine structure, lives on.

And the pope has always been, well, just a pope. They come and go. So suppose a pope gives an order that you, or your superior, deem not in either the church’s or the Curia’s or your congregation’s best interest? What do you do?

You say yes, of course.

And then you begin the twin processes of doing nothing and inventing reasons for doing nothing. Which apparently was what happened with Ratzinger—whatever he wished to do was instantly agreed to and then ignored.

What flourished was secrecy and espionage, and according to El País, the superstar was Tarcisio Bertone, who headed the Secretary of State. Ironically, it’s his office that is meant to coordinate between all the fiefdoms of the Curia. Instead, rather than uniting, he’s been a divisive force.

Ratzinger’s nature, I suspect, is passive—he’s an introvert, a scholar, a pianist—he’s not an aggressive, take-charge kind of guy. His legacy, according again to El País, will be as head of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, not his seven-year papacy. Why? Because he needed a more dominant force—that would be John Paul II—above and behind him. He could administer, but not lead.

Things spiraled down, as things tend to do. Scandal after scandal hit, and Ratzinger retreated more and more. At last, his butler could take it no more and began leaking to the press. The world was reading the dirty secrets, and finally Ratzinger had to tear himself away from the piano and act.

He planned it well. He commissioned the report—the famous secret report that he will hand over to his successor—detailing the problems in the Curia. He knew the only way to cure the Curia—sorry, couldn’t help it—was to resign. By doing so, he would force the entire “cabinet” to resign.

He doesn’t—and no one but me finds this strange—hike back to his native land, to play piano four-hands with his brother. Instead, he is staying in the Vatican with his valet / personal secretary, a man improbably more handsome than George Clooney. Is it the emotional attachment to the secretary, who will spend evenings and nights with the Ratzinger, and then cross the street to work for Francis?

Or is it that Ratzinger can’t leave—he has to stay and clean up his church? Alternatively, he has to stay and protect his back.

I started this post by saying it was a set up—the election after only two days of a pope whom nobody thought, this time around, was in the running. I think word got down—we gotta get somebody new, somebody from the outside, somebody who doesn’t have a checkered past. And that man is the new Pope Francis.

“The word got down” implies that Ratzinger said it. It might be, however, that the word got around, meaning that someone under Ratzinger has been speaking.

And what are we left with? A relatively old, theologically conservative man who knows little about the Curia. Also a man who seems able to be in front of people without radiating chills of disapproval, as Ratzinger did (and paradoxically, even more so when he smiled).

And we’re left as well with a mystery. Did the cardinals act to reform the Curia or to re-entrench the Curia?

Speaking as a gay man, I think Ratzinger was a wonderful pope to have. If you wanted an enemy, wouldn’t you want a weak, non-charismatic, isolated pope? John Paul II, in contrast, was a real threat, but Ratzinger?

Whatever Pope Francis might do about cleaning up the Curia and the Vatican Bank, re-filling the pews, reaching out to other religions, and dealing with abusive priests, there’s one thing you can be sure he won’t do.

And that is?

Budge on theological issues. Here’s Wikipedia on his views of homosexuality:

Bergoglio has affirmed church teaching on homosexuality, maintaining that homosexual actions are immoral.[59][60]

He opposes same-sex marriage,[61] and unsuccessfully opposed legislation introduced in 2010 to legalize same-sex marriage in Argentina, calling it a "real and dire anthropological throwback".[62] In a letter to the monasteries of Buenos Aires, he wrote:

"Let's not be naïve, we're not talking about a simple political battle; it is a destructive pretension against the plan of God. We are not talking about a mere bill, but rather a machination of the Father of Lies[63] that seeks to confuse and deceive the children of God."[64]

In this context, Bergoglio is also opposed to adoption by same-sex couples, arguing that it threatened the "identity [...] and the survival of the family: father, mother and children". He stated that "children [...] are discriminated against in advance depriving them of human growth that God would be given to a father and a mother".[65][66]

Ouch….

In an hour’s time I will take some food that Raf has cooked to his mother, who will kiss me, call me m’hijo and then rush to warm the food up. Mamina in turn will show up at the Plaza on Saturday to read more names. My name is on the telephone list on her refrigerator door.

Would she characterize my marriage to her son in Cambridge, Massachusetts, in 2008 as “a machination of the Father of Lies?”

I’ll ask her, and let you know…. 

Shared Secretarial Services

Two days ago, I wrote a post about the case of Stephen Kiesle, a child molester and priest who was convicted in 1978 of tying up two boys and having sex with them. Kiesle then wanted out of the priesthood, and the bishop of Oakland, California, couldn’t have agreed more. And so a correspondence with Rome began.

Correspondence may not be the word—it was really a written monologue directed at Rome. True, there was an early response asking for more documents, but then… nothing. Oakland wrote several letters over the years, pointing out the conviction, stressing the potential for scandal. Finally, the answer came. Evoking the good of the church, the common good, the need for pastoral care for the priest / molester, Ratzinger said no deal.

Two years later, the priest was finally defrocked. He then went on to molest again, and eventually served prison time. He lives now as a registered sex offender.

I am, as you can see, fascinated by the character of this man, Joseph Ratzinger, whose life story seems to be one of finding himself in events or times saturated with evil, and dealing ambiguously with it.

His biographer points out that he grew up in a heavily Catholic town with virulent anti-Semitism. He is inducted into the Hitler Youth—it was mandatory—and also, later, into the army. He doesn’t fire a shot in the army, nor was he particularly active in the Hitler Youth. Nor does he resist, though the Nazis had seized and murdered his cousin, a 14 year-old child with Down’s syndrome.

Later, he’s teaching at the same university as Hans Küng, the prominent theologian who has at times been a thorn in the Catholic Church’s side. Küng describes Ratzinger as initially liberal, until the student turmoil of the sixties. Students rushed in protest into his classroom; the rigid German, Ratzinger, was appalled by their demands, their conduct, their clothes and grooming.

He steps onto a path that will take him into an increasingly more rigid, repressed, authoritarian, absolute world. Finally, at the end of his life, he confronts evil again, as each week he reads the reports of the sex abuse in his church. And he knows, better than anyone, the magnitude of the problem because he’s given the order: all cases of sexual abuse come to his desk.

Given this fascinating, if rigid, man, I was of course watching via YouTube Ratzinger boarding the helicopter that would take him to Castel Gandolfo. And I was reading the comments as well, one of which was adulatory: you’ve been the best pope ever, thank you, Benedict, for your wonderful service to the church.

I had just written of the Kiesle affair, and had spent the morning reading the letters the diocese had sent and the reply that—after years of silence—Ratzinger had sent. So I posted a comment back, disagreeing, and giving as much of the Kiesle story as I could, in 150 characters or less (I used all but three).

There was—you’re expecting this, right?—the predictable response. I was accused of spreading lies and distortions. That I expected. What lifted the eyebrows was the sentence, “nobody has done more for ridding the Catholic Church of homosexual filth than Benedict.”

True, in a way. Very early on, Ratzinger made it clear to the seminaries—check out those guys. Any seminarian who won’t toe the line, who won’t play by the rules, who comes out and says, “hey, I’m gay—so?” is out. It was back to the fifties—a time of clear, unambiguous repression. 

I could have responded, pointing out that I had spent most of the morning reading the documents of the Kiesle affair, but instead I deleted the comment—from my computer, at least. Mentally, it rankled for a day or two.

Today, I read that the redoubtable Andrew Sullivan has blogged that Ratzinger is gay. No, not that he’s acting on it, but that he is innately gay, and has spent a lifetime repressing it. And he offers several clues that this may be true—Ratzinger’s voice, his scrupulous… but wait, Sullivan does it much better than I. Here he is on the subject.

At times, it seems to me, his gayness is almost wince-inducing. The prissy fastidiousness, the effeminate voice, the fixation on liturgy and ritual, and the over-the-top clothing accessories are one thing. But what resonates with me the most is a theology that seems crafted from solitary introspection into a perfect, abstract unity of belief. It is so perfect it reflects a life of withdrawal from the world of human relationship, rather than an interaction with it.

Sullivan wrote these words in 2010. Today, in 2013, he writes:

The damage Benedict XVI has done to the Catholic church and the papacy may be far from over. All I can say about yesterday’s developments is that they seem potentially disastrous and also indicative to me of something truly weird going on underneath all of this.

Well, it has to be said, there is something strange about a man who, reportedly, has never much liked the Vatican and—equally reportedly—misses his family and native land who then decides to stay in the Vatican. Why? His will be a life of seclusion and prayer; he is withdrawing and giving his absolute obedience to the new pope. Wouldn’t it be prudent to do that many hundred miles away, in a land that speaks his language, where his brother is at hand to chat with, to reminisce, to remember the happy days of a Nazi childhood?

Or is he staying around because of this?

Yes, this hunk, Padre Georg, has been the personal secretary of the previous pope for some time—they met when Ratzinger was head of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. And now, it seems that this ex-pope, who is now in seclusion, praying for the welfare of his beloved church, still feels the need to have a secretary. So Padre Georg will spend the evenings and nights with Ratzinger, and then trot over to fulfill his other secretarial duties with the new pope.

See?

And here is Sullivan quoting Padre Georg—wicked tongues call him gay.org—giving us a little peep into the day of a pontiff:

The pope’s day begins with the seven o’clock Mass, then he says prayers with his breviary, followed by a period of silent contemplation before our Lord. Then we have breakfast together, and so I begin the day’s work by going through the correspondence. Then I exchange ideas with the Holy Father, then I accompany him to the ‘Second Loggia’ for the private midday audiences. Then we have lunch together; after the meal we go for a little walk before taking a nap. In the afternoon I again take care of the correspondence. I take the most important stuff which needs his signature to the Holy Father.

Well, that’s a cozy picture—the breakfast and lunches together, the exchange of ideas, that afternoon nap.

Dear Reader, please believe me—I accuse the Holy Father of absolutely no impropriety. Yes, in the presence of such a sex-god, I would be stripping and kneeling as fast as I could, but I think the pope has / does not.

Twin thoughts on Ratzinger—he must keep this man as a constant and terrible reminder of what he has given up, what he has repressed, what he loves and what he cannot express or especially possess. He is a man in love who has never loved and who—obviously—cannot give up the man to whom he has never given himself. It’s a fascinating, religious / erotic hair shirt; a spiritual / psychosexual session with the scourge. He cannot tear himself away.

Could you?

And incredibly, he expects the whole world to believe this.

Second thought—what in hell is the next pope gonna do about this?