The word is
that Pope Francis is a dab hand at managing the press, but
is he? Or are we simply seeing what we saw with John Paul II—which was the
collective decision of the media to adore what was a staunchly conservative,
repressive theologian who never admitted that there was a sexual abuse scandal
in the church. So he got a free pass, as he has even in death, since he was
allowed to pass the miracle test with a 50% score. Under church rules, two
miracles are needed to establish sainthood. But either Pope Francis or Benedict waived this
rule, and allowed John Paul II to be declared a
saint based on only one miracle.
So from the
beginning, the press has liked this pope. Confession—I generally regard likable
popes as more dangerous than disagreeable popes, so Benedict was my man: a
completely prissy, probably-way-closeted pope who drove people out of the
church faster than sounding a fire alarm. Perfect!
Second
confession: though I think it‘s completely nutty, I appreciate theological
conservatism on logical grounds. Consider the policy, as my friend Harry once
told me, about getting a sperm sample, when needed for infertility counseling.
Normally, guys go into a room, in which usually there are some well-thumbed and
hopefully not too sticky men’s magazines. But how can a good Catholic give a
sperm sample, since absolutely every sexual act must be undergone—considered
using the word “endured”—for the sake of procreation?
Right—there’s
a procedure: the man goes to bed with his wife, but using a condom, into which
a pin has been pricked. There is thus the theoretical chance of procreation,
and you get the sample. See?
I love this
sort of lunacy—who wouldn’t? But I find it seriously screwy when a pope drifts
back to talk to reporters, on the way home from Rio, and sends people’s
eyebrows an inch north and their jaws several inches south. Because the five
words that everybody associates with this pope is, “who am I to judge?”
Answer—you’re
the pope.
It occurred
to me, just now—I know what the problem is. Having worked in Human Resources
for Wal-Mart for seven years, the answer came to me with my first sip of double
espresso. Here goes:
The pope
doesn’t have a job description!
That’s
gotta be the problem, because if he did, there would probably be some sort of
nonsense in it, on the lines of:
Consistently
and rigorously articulate, uphold and champion key components of the Catholic
faith, as defined by scripture, tradition, and the entire canon of the faith.
In short,
the pope is supposed to get up in the morning and sit down and make moral
judgments. That’s why people are dropping the bills in the collection plates.
OK—so the
most recent controversy? The pope apparently
made a 10-minute call to an Argentinian, Jaquelina Lisbona, who is legally
married to a divorced man, and who has been told that she cannot take
communion. Why not? Because she is living in sin with her husband of 20 years,
since he has divorced, and his first marriage has not been annulled. So the
pope grabbed the phone, called her up, and told her, in essence, to shop around
for a more sympathetic priest. And that it would be fine to take communion.
One of the
most bizarre things about the Catholic Church is how little its faithful know
about it. Nor do I, but this much I know—and to make sure, I googled “state of
grace communion.” Try it, and you’ll get your answer.
What’s
weird is that this is Catholicism 101—and the pope is saying it doesn’t matter?
Predictably,
the millions of divorced Catholics went wild—the pope was signaling that the
Church was changing! There were winds of modernity galling through the now open
doors of the medieval church! Did the pope plan to announce major changes when
the meeting of bishops occurred later in the year?
Just as
predictably, the conservatives were howling, and here I have to say—who can
blame them? Because the church’s teaching on marriage is bedrock.
Of course,
it’s also bogus, since a suspiciously high number of marriages are getting
annulled, nowadays: a byzantine procedure that requires two tribunals to decide
that, no, a marriage never existed at all. Some of it anyone can go along
with—if papá is standing over you with a gun, there’s not much consent
involved. But life is messier, in general, and the church is increasingly
willing to nullify a marriage because, well, your husband turned out to be a
drunk. Oh, and guess what? It doesn’t hurt to throw a little money at the
problem, and pay for “advocates” who can…well, advocate.
So how many
marriages are getting annulled? Here’s Wikipedia:
Diocesan
tribunals completed over 49000 cases for nullity of marriage in 2006. Over the
past 30 years about 55 to 70% of annulments have occurred in the United States.
The growth in annulments—at least in the US—has been substantial. In 1968 338
marriages were annulled. In 2006 27,000 were.[17]
In fact,
both JPII and Benedict repeatedly called for crackdowns on giving annulments,
especially at a meeting of the Roman Rota, which typically hears cases for
annulment. Here’s
what one source said:
In 1991, when Pope John Paul II wanted to defend marriage
against what he perceived to be emerging threats, he used his speech to the
Rota to lay out a natural-law case for marriage. He acknowledged that marriage
is shaped by culture, but contemporary secular culture, he warned, had now
become hostile to marriage. Freedom had become "absolutized," and the
pontiff wished to make clear where the boundaries lay.
Three years
later, in 1994, Pope John Paul II admonished the Rota against the
ease with which annulments were being granted. Judges must know the truth, and
the truth "is not always easy." Avoid "the temptation to lighten
the heavy demands of observing the law in the name of a mistaken idea of
compassion and mercy."
Ah,
for the good old days!
Right,
so what did Francis do? Well apparently he drifted in and gave a
seven-paragraph address. Here again is Charles J. Reid on the subject:
What
he delivered was a beautiful meditation on Jesus and the qualities of the good
judge. The judge, he began, must be fully and maturely human. He or she (and
canon law permits women to exercise the judicial office) must never be
legalistic, must avoid dry abstractions, and must instead serve the ends of
real justice. And justice, he stressed, required full awareness of the needs of
the persons before the court. Attend to the person, he emphasized, in his or
her "concrete realities."
As
Reid writes, the most important message—the take-home, as we used to say at
Wal-Mart—was the judges must be pastoral, not judicial. Which leaves me
wondering—if the judges are not to be judicial, well, who is? The answer, as I
read the article, is nobody: since Jesus had focused his life on the pastoral, everybody
within the church is supposed to be pastoral.
Well,
the Vatican press office, who must be salivating for the days of Pope Benedict,
came out and said that a private call was not a policy shift, not a realignment
on doctrine. Which is probably true; there’s an old Roman saying: popes come
and go, the curia remains forever.
And
this pope needs to be careful, because if he puts out all these hints, and then
doesn’t come through? If his bishops hang tough and say, “sorry, but divorced
Catholics cannot take communion?” Look at the
trouble in the Anglican Church over the ordination of a gay bishop—it would
look like Queen Elizabeth’s
tea party in comparison to the fight over remarriage of divorced Catholics.
I’m
an old atheist, so I tend to scoff at the whole thing. Still, I do sort of
wonder…
…should
somebody yank the telephone out of the Holy Father’s office?
