It’s challenging to remember the feelings we experienced at the election of Pope Francis. A total wild card, a true Vatican outsider, swept onto the world stage and took the Chair of St. Peter by storm. It was, in some ways, a bit refreshing. Pope Benedict XVI was deeply intellectual, providing the theological underpinnings that we need to sustain the faith. Still, we longed for the charismatic and energetic days of Pope John Paul II.
In those early days, Francis lamented the parochial clericalism. He dispensed with bestowing the rank of Monsignor on priests as a sign of gratitude for their good works. He asked us to go out and make a mess in our dioceses. Indeed, in this regard, he’s truly practiced what he’s preached.
Over the last decade, under the influence of living at the Curia, Francis has become a creature of the Vatican. He’s become exactly who he asked us not to reject. He wields administrative law against his opponents, and uses the media as a tool of his decidedly ideological agenda.
The first few off-the-cuff remarks to the press that caused a stir could be understood. As a local bishop in Argentina, his media profile was a fraction of the attention that the pope receives. Now, ten years on, it’s his preferred method of stirring the pot. He knows the weight of papal words, even in casual settings, and has used them to move the ball down the field.
At the root of it all, the main problem is that Francis intentionally sows confusion. The Catholic Church is the only organized institution existing today that existed in the same format during the days of the Roman Empire. Why? It’s a ship steered by certain fundamental, immutable principles that keep the ship on course.
In many ways, Pope Francis is the quintessential theocratic political operative. He grants the Chinese Communist Party the co-authority to appoint bishops, and shrugs when they bypass him anyway. He creates counterfeit sacraments, but admonishes the clergy to only use them if they won’t be confusing. Francis calls an entire conference of bishops who dare question his agenda “backwards” and “reactionary.” He tells the world that our understanding of faith and morals “evolves.” He makes promises that no pope can ever make good on, and then winks when he inevitably cannot deliver.
Throughout Church history, there are many periods when the Church falls into disrepair, and the responsibility to right the ship falls to those outside of the highest echelons of authority. As the ironies pile up, one of the most clear examples is the life of St. Francis himself. Constant reform is the way of the Christian life, and it falls to the vibrant religious communities and the laity to rebuild God’s Church. We find ourselves in need of a new St. Francis to repair the inestimable damage wrought by Pope Francis.
Tags: Community
