AND NOW THAT POPE FRANCIS HAS ENTERED HIS FINAL RESTING PLACE, RIP, THE DEBATES ABOUT HIS PAPACY WILL HELP CARDINALS ELECT A NEW POPE AS WE RESET AND GO FORWARD

Francis in Full(press for full article)

Bishop Robert Barron became quite frank about Pope Francis' papacy. He begins his critique with listing the great things Pope Francis accomplished, especially being a pastoral pope and a pope of the streets with the language of the streets.

But then he turns to what needs to be refined and reset:

And yet, what one reads in almost every assessment of the late pope is that he was, at the very least, “controversial,” “confusing,” “ambiguous.” Some commentators would go so far as to say that he was heretical, undermining the ancient traditions of the Church. I do not at all subscribe to that latter position, but I sympathize to a degree with the former characterizations. Pope Francis was a puzzling figure in many ways, seeming to delight in confounding expectations, zigging when you thought he would zag. He famously told the young people gathered for World Youth Day in Rio de Janeiro to “hagan lío” (make a mess), and sometimes he appeared to take pleasure in doing just that. 

One of the messier moments of the Francis pontificate was the two-part Synod on the Family, which took place in 2014 and 2015. The fact that Walter Cardinal Kasper, a long-time advocate of allowing divorced and remarried Catholics to receive communion, spoke at the outset of the gathering indicated rather clearly the direction that Pope Francis wanted the synod to take. But he was met with stiff resistance from bishops, especially from the developing world, and when the final document appeared, the famous Amoris Laetitia, the question seemed oddly unresolved, open to a variety of interpretations. When the pope’s apologists pointed to an obscure footnote buried deep in the document as providing the requisite clarity, many in the Church were, to say the least, incredulous. And when four cardinals petitioned the pope to resolve a number of puzzles (dubia­, in the technical jargon) that Amoris Laetitia had raised in their minds, they were basically ignored. 

There are indeed many beautiful insights in Amoris Laetitia, but they were largely overlooked due to the controversy and ambiguity that accompanied the document. Indeed, in the wake of its publication, a sort of “doctrinal anarchy” was let loose, as various bishops’ conferences gave the document varying interpretations, so that, for example, what remained a mortal sin in Poland seemed permissible in Malta. If a primary responsibility of the pope is to maintain unity in doctrine and morals, it is hard to see how Pope Francis met that obligation throughout that synodal process and its aftermath. 

And he oddly did not seem to learn from this situation. In 2023, after the first round of the Synod on Synodality (more on this anon), Pope Francis’s doctrinal chief, Victor Manuel Cardinal Fernández, issued the statement Fiducia Supplicans, which allowed for the possibility of blessing those in same-sex unions. To say that a firestorm broke out in the Catholic world would be an understatement, and the opposition was led, once again, by Catholic leaders from the non-Western sphere. In an astonishing display of unity and courage, the bishops of Africa said that they would not enforce the teaching of Fiducia in their countries, and the pope backed down, permitting them to dissent from the document. That all of this unfolded immediately after a gathering of four hundred leaders from around the Catholic world, who were never consulted on the matter, simply beggars belief. Once again, the pope struggled to maintain the unity of the Church.

At times, too, the pope’s admirably generous instincts appeared to lead him into saying doctrinally imprecise things or countenancing problematic behaviors. An example of the first would be his endorsement, on a number of occasions, of the proposition that all religions are legitimate paths to God, like differing languages speaking the same truth. Now, given his clear enthusiasm for evangelization, I want to be generous in my interpretation of his words, construing them perhaps along the lines of the Second Vatican Council’s assertion that there are elements of truth in all religions. But I think it is fair to say that the pope at least gave the strong impression of religious indifferentism.  

As an example of his countenancing of problematic behaviors, I would point to the (in)famous Pachamama incident at the Synod on the Amazon in 2019. Though there remains a good deal of confusion about the purpose of the placement of the Pachamama statue in the Vatican Gardens during a prayer with the pope, it is certainly fair to say that it generated much controversy and that the various attempts to explain it only made matters worse. Once more, the pope found himself in the middle of a self-created and completely unnecessary kerfuffle, the man supposed to guarantee unity at least implicitly undermining it.

No one doubts that Pope Francis was rhetorically gifted, not in the academic manner of John Paul II or Benedict XVI to be sure, but in the manner of a parish priest adept at popular homilizing. And his speech very often had an edge. Here are a few of his gems: “Mr. and Mrs. Whiner”; “liquid Christian”; “pickled-pepper-faced Christian”; “weak to the point of rottenness”; “Church who is more spinster than mother.” And I believe it is fair to say that his rhetorical venom was, more often than not, directed at conservative Catholics. Here are a few more zingers: “the closed, legalistic slave of his own rigidity”; “doctors of the letter!”; “Rigidity conceals the leading of a double life, something pathological”; “professionals of the sacred! Reactionaries”; and, most famously, “­backwardists.” 

I know that these withering criticisms often deeply discouraged orthodox Catholics, especially young priests and seminarians, whom the pope once referred to as “little monsters.” On one occasion, during the first session of the Synod on Synodality, the pope spoke to the assembled delegates. This sort of direct papal intervention was extremely rare, for, to his credit, the pope did not want excessively to sway or dominate the discussion. He spoke, in a sarcastic tone, of young clerics in Rome who spend too much time at the clerical haberdashery shops, trying on hats, collars, and cassocks. Now, there may indeed be some immature priests and students who are preoccupied with such things, but it struck me as exceedingly strange that this was the topic the pope chose for this rare opportunity to address some of the top leadership of the Church. 

To me, it indicated a curious fixation on, and demonization of, the more conservatively minded. And what made matters even more mystifying is that Francis had to have known that the Church is flourishing precisely among its more conservative members. As the famously liberal church of Germany withers on the vine, the conservative, supernaturally-­oriented church of Nigeria is exploding in numbers. And in the West, the lively parts of the Church are, without doubt, those that embrace a vibrant orthodoxy rather than those that accommodate the secularist culture. Many of the pope’s expressions and stories were indeed funny, but one would be hard pressed to characterize them as invitations to dialogue with conservative interlocutors. 

By way of conclusion, I would like to say a few words about synodality, which I believe Francis himself would identify as his signature theme. I was privileged to be an elected delegate to both sessions of the Synod on Synodality. For two months, I listened to and spoke with representatives from all over the world, and I learned a lot about how Catholics respond to challenges in remarkably diverse cultural milieux. I very much enjoyed the conversations, both those formal exchanges around the table, and even more so, the informal chats during coffee breaks. I came to understand the pope’s Jesuit-inspired process of prayerful discernment. 

I also came, I must admit, to appreciate the limits of synodality. Though every dialogue was lively and informative, very few of them moved toward decision, judgment, or resolution. Most were stuck at what Bernard Lonergan would call the second stage of the epistemic process, namely, being intelligent or having bright ideas. They didn’t move to Lonergan’s third level, which is the act of making a judgment, much less to his fourth stage, which is that of responsible action. So respectful were we of the “process” of conversation that we had almost a phobia of coming to decision. 

This is a fatal problem for Christians entrusted with the evangelical command to announce Christ to the world. The upshot is something that I believe is repugnant to what Pope Francis has consistently said he wants the Church to be: extroverted, mission-oriented, not stuck in the sacristy. I wondered at times during the two rounds of the synod whether synodality represented a tension within the mind and heart of Francis himself. 

Of all of the popes in my lifetime, Francis is, by far, the one I knew the best. I was with him for three Octobers: the two already mentioned, and a third for the Synod on Young People in 2018. During those wonderful months, I saw him practically every day and had a few occasions to speak to him. I also encountered him on an ad limina visit and at a handful of other audiences. I always found him gracious, funny, and approachable; once we had a short but intense spiritual conversation. I considered him my spiritual father and sincerely mourn his passing. Requiescat in pace.