Tag: Pope

America After Francis: 8 Ways to Keep the Francis Effect Going

If you are American, or know an American, or ever look at the Internet, you may have noticed that Pope Francis was in the US this week. And we may never be the same.

Boehner gifCNN broadcast hours of Catholic programming. Political leaders wept openly. A million people went to Mass with him today. Millions more watched. The top 5 trending topics on Facebook were Francis. And Americans–Catholic and non-Catholic alike–couldn’t get over how they loved him. Just search Twitter for “I’m not Catholic, but.”

This week, everyone is talking about the Gospel. Whether they know it or not, that’s what’s happening. They love Pope Francis because he loves like Jesus. And, like it or not, we all want to know that love. So people are drawn to him–to his mercy, his joy, his tenderness. But what happens tomorrow, when he’s back in Rome and the “news” is filled with Kardashians instead of Christ? How do we live so that the wonder and joy of this week lead somewhere?

1.Talk about it. This is the easiest it may ever be for you to start talking to people about Jesus. Everyone’s talking about Pope Francis–there’s nothing awkward about bringing him up tomorrow. Then see where the conversation goes.

“Did you see Boehner crying last week? I’ve never seen a politician so sincere!” Then you start talking about why he was crying. What is it about this Pope? He feels like Jesus. Why? Mercy. Love. Joy.

Well played.
Well played.

“Marky Mark emceed for the Pope this weekend. Where was the rest of the Funky Bunch?” Bet nobody saw that coming back when he was a thug. Did you hear he had a huge conversion? Yup–turned his whole life around.1 Just because some priest loved him. Ever known a priest like that? Pope Francis seems like that type. He’s willing to forgive anyone. That’s the incredible thing about the Church: mercy. Love. Joy.

“Did you see the Pope stop his car to kiss that handicapped boy?” He really loves the marginalized, doesn’t he? Prisoners, too. And the poor. He loves sinners a lot. He’s just like Jesus, isn’t he? Mercy. Love. Joy.

Francis homeless“How about Pope Francis skipping lunch with dignitaries to eat with the homeless?” They’re just as important as the movers and shakers. It’s not what you do that makes a difference but who you are, and every one of them is a child of God. Even the addicts and prostitutes. Incredible to see how he loves–and think how much more the Father must love us! Mercy. Love. Joy.

2. Lose the labels. If you read/listened to what the Pope was saying this weekend, you know: he’s not a Republican. He’s also not a Democrat. He’s a Catholic. Which means he’s wildly liberal and wildly conservative because Jesus was wildly liberal and wildly conservative. If your views are dictated more by your party’s platform than by the Gospel, rethink that. And then maybe find some common ground with people who are far from Christ by talking about immigration or human trafficking or global warming or any of the dozen other issues that Pope Francis agrees with them on.

Bet you didn't see that one coming, UN.
Bet you didn’t see that one coming, UN.

3. Agree with people. Did you notice that Francis didn’t go in guns blazing to tell everybody how wrong they were? Even when addressing Congress or the United Nations, he affirmed everything he possibly could to show them how much common ground there was. Then he led them–gently–to see where they were wrong. He met them where they were and then urged them to come a little further, all while loving them hard. Try that for a change. It’s not just a strategy, it’s a way of respecting people. Pope Francis is a pro at that.

4. Comfort the afflicted. The mark of a prophet–and a defining characteristic of Jesus himself–is that he comforts the afflicted and afflicts the comfortable. The mark of most Christians is that we afflict the afflicted and comfort the comfortable. We tell sinners just what we think of them, ripping open their wounds and rubbing in salt, while congratulating mediocre Christians on not being like those terrible people. And those who were far from Christ fall farther, convinced that they’re unworthy of love, while Satan woos the complacent. Instead, try loving those who are suffering, even if you think their suffering is “their own fault.” For a change, don’t try to fix them. Just love them. Francis spends a lot of time comforting the afflicted, and everybody loves him the more for it.

5. Afflict the comfortable. We didn’t hear terribly much of this during the Holy Father’s visit this time around, but those of us who live firmly in the Church’s embrace have heard a lot of it over the last two and a half years. Don’t make a whip out of cords and start flipping tables just yet, but pray about ways you can challenge decent people to be saints.

6. Lead with love. This is what really gets people: Francis loves them. He loves them so powerfully that they can’t ignore it. When they feel loved, they want to get closer. And when they get closer, they realize it wasn’t Francis loving them at all, but Jesus. Love hard. Tell people how wonderful you think they are. Even–especially–if you struggle to love them, find the things you love and tell them. Then maybe they’ll begin to hear the Father’s love as well.

My most popular Facebook post ever, shared 62 times.
My most popular Facebook post ever, shared 62 times.

7. Keep your eyes (and heart) open. My Facebook feed is filled with stories of people returning to the Sacraments after decades because of watching Pope Francis on TV this week. People are sharing about entire bars that were glued to the screens showing the Holy Father, all joining in for a Hail Mary at the end. In a bar. I read one woman saying, “I’m not even a Christian and Pope Francis is my favorite human being alive!” Our Churches today were filled with prodigals, I’m sure of it. Pay attention. Look around for people who might feel out of place. Listen when people talk about Pope Francis to see if they aren’t really asking about Jesus. Ask the Holy Spirit to show you what to say. And never, never think you know a person’s story. Everyone you meet is hungry for Jesus. We all show it differently. Your job is not to judge. Your job is to bring them to Jesus.

8. Smile more. He could have done nothing else and this smile would have gotten the country talking.

happy Francis

This could be the decisive moment in the American Catholic Church for the next decade–if you follow up. Seeds have been planted this week. Let’s work with the Lord to bring in a bountiful harvest.

I’d love to hear your stories of how the Pope’s visit impacted people around you–please share in the comments!

  1. Feel free to discuss the fact that his movies are still totally inappropriate–the Church is a hospital for sinners, after all. [↩]

The Pope Who Brought Me Home

I became Catholic quite against my will. Well, to be fair, when I actually became Catholic I was 3 months old and had very little will to speak of. But when I came to believe–when I left my adolescent atheism behind and embarked on the great adventure that’s brought me anguish and ecstasy, guilt and mercy, uncertainty and risk and sacrifice and so very much joy–it was not something I sought. The Lord looked past my rolling eyes, dragged me into a confessional, and didn’t let me go till I was washed clean and convicted.

And there I was, a wide-eyed 13-year-old knowing nothing but that Jesus was God and he loved me. So, like any other 13-year-old, I grabbed a Catechism and a Bible and set out to know all the things there were to know.

Something else wiser GKCAs it turns out, there’s quite a lot. And some of it is hard. And some of it seems illogical, especially when you know nothing about logic because you’re 13 and getting your answers from AskJeeves. But I’d read John 6 and I’d read Matthew 16 and I knew I was stuck. Like it or not, I was Catholic. But the Church still struck me as an ideology, not a home. Until I got to know my papa.

JPII was not a popular figure in my house. We were too liberal for his conservative nonsense. I distinctly remember my father remarking with disgust on “the latest papal bull” in such a way that I didn’t realize “bull” was a technical term, not a profane one. We didn’t pray for him, we didn’t have pictures of him, and we certainly didn’t admire him.

So I don’t know when I first got to know him. I don’t know if I realized at once how amazing he was. I just know this: by the time I was 16, I was absolutely convinced that my papa loved me. It didn’t matter that he’d never met me. He adored me. And he became the Church for me. When being Catholic seemed too hard or illogical, I knew it would break his heart if I left. Oh, he wouldn’t know, exactly, but this mystic pope of ours would feel the poorer for having lost me. I couldn’t do that to him.

Cute JPII smileThere was something in his eyes that told me I mattered, something that spoke the love of Christ in a more powerful way than anyone I’d ever seen. I saw Christ move so powerfully in him that I fell in love. I used to creep my students out by telling them how handsome he was, how he was my number 2 crush of all time.1 Sure, he was handsome. But it wasn’t just his face that drew me.

JPII was a baller. He was a brilliant philosopher, poet, actor, athlete, and polyglot. He was charming and charismatic, a Catholic rock star if ever there was one. He was handsome enough to swoon over, a man of prayer, and the Rock that Christ rebuilt our Church on during a tumultuous quarter century. He revolutionized the way we think about sex and the human person. He transformed our attitude towards youth. He destroyed communism in the West. But that’s not why I love him. I love him because he loved me.

JPII sum of the Father's loveI love him because he taught me what it meant to be loved by Christ. He longed for me and suffered for me and spoke truth to me. He put a human face on this institutional Church of ours and showed me that the Church was more than my teacher, she was my mother and my home. It wasn’t just that every explanation he gave satisfied my intellectual curiosity, it was that he spoke truth with the love of Christ. In writing about him now, I almost believe that he and I used to sit together and discuss these issues. That’s how much I could feel his love, even before he died and finally learned my name.

That was why I went to World Youth Day in Rome in 2000–to be near him. It was why I studied in Rome. I minored in Italian so that I could hang around the Vatican. I used to go to St. Peter’s and check the language signs on the confessionals to see if any had Polish, Italian, English, German, Russian, Spanish, Portuguese, Latin, etc. on the outside. Popes hear confessions too, right? It was why I started crying when a student told me he had kissed her when she was a little girl: because this Vicar of Christ had Jesus eyes and I felt the love of the Lord every time I was near him.

I remember being in class once with a professor who didn’t strike me as a huge JPII fan. I would have guessed that he was too far left to much admire my papa. He was big into peace and justice, running Pax Christi and the Catholic Worker House, and at the time I wasn’t aware that people could be all about social justice and all about personal morality at the same time.2 So when a girl in class started lamenting the popes’ teaching on contraception, I wasn’t excited to hear his response.

“I don’t understand why some old man living in his golden palace in Rome gets to tell me what I can do with my body!”

“Old man in Rome?” he asked quietly. “He also lived in Nazi- and Communist-occupied Poland, Miss White Suburban America.” I’m pretty sure I applauded.

This was the thing about John Paul–sure, some people hated him,3 but far more loved him because he loved truth and he loved liars. He hated communism but loved communists. He hated sin but loved sinners. He endured loneliness and oppression and near starvation and came out the other side so filled with the love of Christ that you were almost compelled to look away. It was almost too beautiful to endure.

Jesus you seek JPII coverTo this day, when I see a picture of him, I feel a pang. Not because I miss him but because I miss Christ. The face of Pope John Paul makes me long for heaven because he loved me–loves me–the way that Christ loves me. He pointed me to Christ. He still does. He made me love Christ and his Church more. He taught me what it meant to be human, to be a woman, to be a Catholic and a lover of humanity. Tomorrow’s canonization is a formality. I’ve known he was a Saint since long before he died.

My 4-year-old nephew was recently filling out the Sacramental record in his Bible. After listing his baptismal date (which I’m sure he has memorized) and his anticipated dates of First Communion and Confirmation, he had to put his confirmation sponsor’s name. “What’s a confirmation sponsor?” he asked his mom. “It’s someone who helps you stay Catholic,” she answered.

Without hesitation, he carefully wrote, “Pope JPII.”

Me, too, buddy. Me, too.

So I bought him this. Because I'm the best godmother ever.
So I bought him this. Because I’m the best godmother ever.

Linking up with Jenny and everybody else who loves my papa–find their stories over here!

JPIILoveStory linkup

  1. Number 1: St. John the Beloved, because a guy with the courage and the faithfulness to stand at the foot of the Cross is more attractive than any Ryan Gosling meme. [↩]
  2. Somehow I hadn’t noticed that they’re inseparable…. [↩]
  3. I’m not unaware of his flaws, most especially his colossal failure to act in the face of the clergy sex abuse. Knowing him as I do, I can’t help but believe that he did the best he could with the information he was given and the understanding of pedophilia that was prevalent during his formative years. I am terribly, terribly sorry for those victims who felt that his silence was compliance and whose pain is raw this weekend. Please know that I weep for you and that your Father in heaven aches for you and rages against those who hurt you. Your Church longs for you and will never stop loving you. This canonization is not a declaration that all his actions were impeccable–none of us are without fault, not even the saints among us–but a celebration of the many, many ways he did act to make Christ’s love more tangible to the many empty hearts in this world. [↩]

5 Shocking Things Pope Francis Believes

Have you been on the internet this week? Just in case you haven’t, here’s what you missed:

Pope dopeAnyone who’s been paying attention for the past 4 months knows that Pope Francis is nothing at all like his predecessors. In fact, he’s finally modernizing the Catholic Church’s teaching, taking “huge steps forward” with his “radical changes”!1 After millennia of bigotry and backwardness, the 1.2 billion-member-Church is finally becoming relevant to the modern world. Check out the pontiff’s outrageous new doctrines:

1. Catholics should love gay people.

Cool Pope: “If a person is gay and seeks the Lord and has good will, who am I to judge that person?  The Catechism of the Catholic Church explains this point beautifully but says, wait a moment, how does it say, it says, these persons must never be marginalized and ‘they must be integrated into society.’ The problem is not that one has this tendency; no, we must be brothers, this is the first matter.”2

The Old Guard:

It is deplorable that homosexual persons have been and are the object of violent malice in speech or in action. Such treatment deserves condemnation from the Church’s pastors wherever it occurs. It reveals a kind of disregard for others which endangers the most fundamental principles of a healthy society. The intrinsic dignity of each person must always be respected in word, in action and in law. -Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger (Pope Benedict XVI)3

[Homosexual persons] must be accepted with respect, compassion, and sensitivity. Every sign of unjust discrimination in their regard should be avoided. –Catechism of the Catholic Church 2358

2. Catholics should love sinners.

Cool Pope: “How much do I love the church? Do I pray for it? Do I feel part of the church family? What do I do to make the church a community where everyone feels welcomed and understood, everyone feels the mercy and love of God who renews life?”4

The Old Guard:

[The Church] must do everything possible so that [those who are divorced and remarried] feel loved and accepted, that they are not ‘outsiders’ even if they cannot receive absolution and the Eucharist. They must see that they too live fully within the Church. -Pope Benedict XVI5

The Church, however, clasping sinners to her bosom, at once holy and always in need of purification, follows constantly the path of penance and renewal.” All members of the Church, including her ministers, must acknowledge that they are sinners. –Catechism of the Catholic Church 827

3. Unbridled capitalism is bad news.

Cool Pope: “A savage capitalism has taught the logic of profit at any cost, of giving in order to get, of exploitation without thinking of people… and we see the results in the crisis we are experiencing.”6

The Old Guard:

The entirety of the encyclical Caritas in Veritate –Pope Benedict XVI

[The Church] has likewise refused to accept, in the practice of “capitalism,” individualism and the absolute primacy of the law of the marketplace over human labor. Regulating the economy … solely by the law of the marketplace fails social justice, for “there are many human needs which cannot be satisfied by the market.” –Catechism of the Catholic Church 2425

4. Jesus died for atheists.

Cool Pope: “The Lord has redeemed all of us, all of us, with the Blood of Christ: all of us, not just Catholics. Everyone! ‘Father, the atheists?’ Even the atheists. Everyone!”7

The Old Guard:

Did the Lord not die for all? That Jesus Christ, as the Son of God made man, is the man for all men, the new Adam, belongs to the fundamental certainties of our faith. -Pope Benedict XVI8

The Church, following the apostles, teaches that Christ died for all men without exception: “There is not, never has been, and never will be a single human being for whom Christ did not suffer.” –Catechism of the Catholic Church 605, quoting the regional Council of Quiercy

5. All people should care for the poor.

Cool Pope: “Throwing away food is like stealing from the table of the poor and the hungry.”9

The Old Guard:

Opulence and waste are no longer acceptable when the tragedy of hunger is assuming ever greater proportions. -Pope Benedict XVI10

Not to enable the poor to share in our goods is to steal from them and deprive them of life. The goods we possess are not ours, but theirs. –Catechism of the Catholic Church 2446, quoting St. John Chrysostom

WYD 2013If these brand new dogmas aren’t enough to convince you, consider how popular Francis is with the youth: 3 million people traveled to Rio to celebrate this past week’s World Youth Day. In contrast, only a few thousand went to Benedict’s celebration in Madrid in 201111 while slightly more attended John Paul’s World Youth Day in Manila in 1995!12

Want more? Here’s some photographic evidence of how much more approachable Francis is than standoffish Ratzinger, who was the Vatican’s doctrinal watchdog before he engineered his successful papal campaign.

So take heart, people of the world. He loves gay people, he loves the poor, he believes in mercy and compassion…in short, the Pope is Catholic!!

Oh, and he can forgive your sins through Twitter, too.

</sarcasm>

That'd be greatIn keeping with the above, check out this NY Times Quiz on the differing positions of our recent 3 popes. And these ten quotes that prove the Pope is a liberal.

  1. Language culled from The Atlantic Wire. [↩]
  2. Via [↩]
  3. Via [↩]
  4. Via [↩]
  5. Via [↩]
  6. Via [↩]
  7. Via [↩]
  8. Via [↩]
  9. Via [↩]
  10. Via [↩]
  11. 2 thousand thousand, but Europe has about 55% the Catholics of Latin America. [↩]
  12. 4 million. At the time, the third largest gathering of human beings ever. [↩]

He’s Just the Pope

The greatest sacrifice of my ministry thus far hasn’t been foregoing a steady income or even living out of my car. I thought missing the Miami game to speak on confession was going to be tough to beat, but Wednesday blew it out of the water. After hearing about the white smoke and watching the Holy Father come out, I had to leave to drive down to Mary Washington before I could read everything on the internet about him. I had to settle for secular radio to learn what I could before driving home and spending midnight to 2am liking everything on Facebook.

Look how sweet and meek!

But I knew as soon as I heard his papal name that I was going to love him, and oh, friends, I love him! You’re not surprised by this, I know. I was going to love whoever it was. But Pope Francis? Named after il Poverello, the most Christlike man since Christ, a man too humble to be ordained? The first pope in a millennium to pick a brand new papal name? Y’all, I still giggle every time I hear his name. It’s like puppy love over here, and it’s no wonder.

How could you not love a man so humble that he asks for your blessing before imparting his? How could you not adore a man who rides the bus home with all the other cardinals immediately after being elected? A man whose episcopal motto is “Lowly yet chosen”?

servidorWe all know about how he rode the bus instead of a limo, how he lived in an apartment instead of a palace, how he washed the feet of AIDS patients and prisoners, how he stood up to a corrupt government, how he told Argentinians not to come see him made a cardinal but to give that money to the poor instead.  This guy doesn’t just pay lip service to social justice–he lives it.

But he refuses to conform to any liberal/conservative paradigm. He’s orthodox on every single issue, taking a stand against abortion and gay marriage and demanding orthodoxy of the priests under him, but not wielding truth like a weapon. He’s a man of truth and mercy and above all a man of love. He’s a scientist by training, a Jesuit in the image of St. Ignatius–educated, obedient, committed, prayerful. His first act as pope was a visit to the Blessed Mother. His first homily was about the Cross. He’s meek and simple and strong and such a gift to the Church.

well played

But he’s just the pope.

Don’t get me wrong, being the pope is a really big deal. He’s probably the most important man in the world. But he’s just a man. I’ve been talking about how awesome the papacy is for all of Lent, but I want to stop a minute to address those among us who see the Holy Father as Messiah or anti-Christ: he’s just the pope.

To those of you who said, “Since the pope is a liberal/conservative/good man, I might stay Catholic,” might I point out that being Catholic has nothing to do with what kind of man the pope is or what positions he holds? If Jesus is God and founded a Church, your allegiance to the Church should be too strong to be swayed by “liberal” or “conservative” popes. Because the pope can’t change doctrine. So if you’re sticking around in the hopes that he’ll allow contraception or gay marriage, you’re going to have a frustrating time of it. Or if you’re staying because you’re sick of following sinners and hypocrites and you think Pope Francis might be different, I’ll burst that bubble right now: he’s a sinner. But if you’re not willing to love the Church in all her brokenness, can you really call yourself a Catholic? I’m not kicking anyone out of the Church here, just asking: are you more convicted of your ideology than you are of the infallible teachings of the Church? Because he’s not going to change those awkward teachings–he can’t. He’s just the pope.

To those who said “Bergoglio loathes the Traditional Latin Mass,” I have to admit that I don’t know much about the matter. It does seem that he’s never encouraged it. But I don’t imagine that this kind, gentle man loathes anything. And given that it was the TLM that drew him to enter seminary, I find it unlikely that he loathes it. Even if he did, he can’t outlaw it forever. And while I seriously doubt that he’d suppress the practice, particularly with Benedict still alive, even if he did, you’d just have to wait out his papacy. Because he can’t outlaw something that God has permitted–not permanently, anyway. He’s just the pope.

To those who said, “Maybe there’s hope for the Church,” I have to say this: there is always hope for the Church. By definition. Jesus himself said “the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.” This pope could be everything popes are accused of being. He could be a Nazi and a pedophile and a lecherous, embezzling, megalomaniacal narcissist and there would still be hope for the Church. There will always be hope for the Church. And if our only hope is a good man, we’re in a lot of trouble. Because, powerful as he is, he can’t destroy the Church and he can’t save it. He’s just the pope.

To those who said “We’re doomed,”1 give me a minute to stop laughing. Then see above.

You might have valid issues with his approach to liturgy or ecumenism. You might wonder whether an outsider can reform the Curia. You might be concerned about his initial tendency to ignore traditions. But you have to admit this: Pope Francis is humble and holy and loving and strong. I think he will be an incredible pope, but he’s just the pope. He’s not going to save the Church–it already has a Savior. He’s not going to destroy the Church–it’s impossible. I think he’s going to be a holy shepherd and a tough boss and a strong advocate of true evangelism. Do we really need anything more than that?

  1. This is a direct quote. [↩]

I May Be a Sedevacantist, But I Don’t Have to Like It

I was once in Paris and ducked into a church. Services were just about to begin but I couldn’t tell if it was a Catholic church. Given the iconostasis and abundance of icons, I thought it might be an Eastern Catholic Church, but everything was in Cyrillic so I couldn’t tell for sure if it was Catholic or Orthodox. I looked all around the narthex for something written in French and was about to walk out, discouraged at the unanswered question, when I saw a picture of Pope Benedict.

“Oh,” I thought, “this is my church.” So I went in and sat down. I don’t know what I’d do today–when you’re a sedevacantist, everything’s a little off.

First of all, and if nothing else, the pope serves as an easy way to identify the Church. “Where Peter is, there is the Church,” St. Ambrose said 1500 years ago, and it’s still true. Want to know if the Polish Catholic Church is in fact a Catholic Church? Ask if they’re in union with the pope.1 Want to know if the Latin Mass you’re about to attend is legit? Ask a parishioner if there’s a pope.2 Want to know which Church is the Church of Christ? Find the one that at least claims an unbroken line to him.

You see, Jesus was pretty clear about founding a Church.3 And he was pretty serious about his followers being undivided4 and knowing true doctrine.5 So I think it’s fair to say that he would have done whatever it took to keep his people united and free from error. How could he have accomplished this?

  1. With Scripture alone? This results in thousands of different denominations preaching wildly different doctrines.
  2. With a college of equal bishops? The Orthodox have tried this and, from an outside perspective, it seems to bring them divisions and doctrinal ambiguity.
  3. With one leader? Oh, that’d be the Pope.
Oh, friends, I miss him.
Oh, friends, I miss him.

What the papacy provides us is what we really need: continuity and continuation of the Church, easy identification, and protected teachings.6 Through the Holy Father, we have apostolic succession, ensuring that this is the same Church that can trace itself back to Peter. Through his smiling face (whatever it may look like next), we can tell in any country whether or not this is our Church. Through his infallibility and the infallibility granted the bishops in union with him, the true faith is protected by the Holy Spirit. Without a Pope, none of this is guaranteed. And I’d argue that the denominations that don’t have a pope know, at some level, that they’re missing these.7

To my mind, it’s really the infallibility issue that matters. If there is no infallibility, there is no truth and if there is no truth, there is no Church. One might argue that all truth can be found in the Bible. I will choose to stand with Blessed John Henry Newman and say:

It is antecedently unreasonable to suppose that a book so complex, so systematic, in parts so obscure, the outcome of so many minds, times, and places, should be given us from above without the safeguard of some authority; as if it could possibly, from the nature of the case, interpret itself. Its inspiration does but guarantee its truth, not its interpretation.

Even assuming that one could have a Bible without a Church, the interpretation of Scripture is so varied that those denominations that do not submit themselves to an infallible interpreter number in the tens of thousands. Those that do accept an infallible authority number two. Newman puts it quite succinctly: “The gift of inspiration requires as its complement the gift of infallibility.”

In the end, we either have one pope or a billion. Either there is one infallible teacher who bases his claim to infallibility on Christ himself or each man is his own infallible teacher, regardless of 2 Pt 1:20. James Cardinal Gibbons points out how ludicrous this is:

“You assert for yourself, and of course for every reader of the Scripture, a personal infallibility which you deny to the Pope, and which we claim only for him.  You make every man his own Pope.  If you are not infallibly certain that you understand the true meaning of the whole Bible…then, I ask, of what use to you is the objective infallibility of the Bible without an infallible interpreter?”

Now, whatever you may say about sinful popes (and there have been some impressive ones), no matter how bad they got, they never changed Church teaching. The worst of the Renaissance popes, with his (alleged?) harem and blatant nepotism never issued a papal decree that beautiful women must sleep with him nor permitted polygamy nor even suggested that the pope should be allowed to marry. No doctrine was ever changed to what was more convenient or pleasant or politically expedient. Think, friends. If absolute power corrupts absolutely, why were these corrupt men with absolute power corrupt only to a point? Why were they corrupt only as regards their personal conduct and not when it came to doctrine? Is it possible that the preservation of the faith is a matter of grace?

If you’re the only one of the first 49 popes not to be a Saint, it’s possible you did something wrong….

Looking at Catholic dogma, you may well think that it is corrupted. But if you’re a Christian, you accept the dogma of the hypostatic union.8 Consider that in the early centuries of the Church there were no fewer than three heretic popes. Liberius was an Arian, Honorius was a Monothelite, and Vigilius was selected as pope specifically because he was a Monophysite. Yet none of the three taught heresy from the See of Peter. Despite personal conviction, they upheld the one, holy, catholic, and apostolic faith handed down to them.

To put it in more worldly terms, imagine you somehow gained control of an organization whose central tenets you disagreed with. Let’s say, for example, that someone heard that I’m a nomad, was really impressed, and gave me the New York Yankees. Now, because I love God, America, and baseball, I hate the Yankees.9 So if you gave me total control over the club, well, I’d make them play baseball in devil horns and tutus. Or if I were going for subtle and mature, I’d just start inflating the contracts of burnt-out superstars and stop paying the rising stars much of anything. I’d gradually age the Yanks out of the game–clever, huh?

"Seriously? This was your evil plan?"
“Seriously? This was your evil plan?”

But those heretic popes? Nothing of the sort. Even surrounded by all their heretic buddies, they changed nothing–some even say that Vigilius became orthodox10 when he was consecrated Pope. There was no reason in the world for these guys not to tweak things just a little to make their heresy of choice required belief for all Christians. There was, however, a reason out of this world.

Nobody’s claiming the pope is impeccable or that he’s omniscient. We’ve studied history, too. We’re saying that it’s that much more impressive that, not being impeccable or omniscient, our 265 popes have handed down a Church that–if nothing else–has outlasted every empire it came up against without once compromising its teaching.

Oh my gosh I REALLY want these!

Now, you don’t have to be obsessed with every pope like some of us.11 And you don’t have to have action figures and medals and scream like a 12-year-old girl at a Justin Bieber concert every time you think about him.12 And you know what? Depending who the next pope is, you don’t even have to think he’s particularly charming or brilliant or holy. Just as long as you respect him as the Vicar of Christ–not Christ himself but his steward–and accept his infallibility. Given that this is what it means to be Catholic, it doesn’t strike me as terribly hard.

It won’t be too long before we have another pope, friends. His is one of the hardest jobs in the world, with Satan and secularism gunning for him. Let’s do him the honor of starting to love him even now, regardless of whether he’s a traddy or a liberal, a man of expensive tastes or an uncultured boor. Whether he’s got a doctorate in theology or liberal arts or nothing at all, he’ll be better educated than Peter. And even if he weren’t, Jesus made it very clear with his selection of Peter as our first pope that he can use any man to do great things as the Servant of the Servants of God. I’m confident that our next pope will be as incredible as his (recent) predecessors, but just in case, remember: this is our Father. Whatever people might have to say about him, we love him and defend him. Whatever we might have hoped for in a pope, we rejoice in the man God gives us. Pray for him and the Cardinals–the conclave starts Tuesday!!

  1. Nope. First clue that your church is not the Church established by Christ: it was founded in Scranton. [↩]
  2. Okay, so this is confusing right now when we’re all sedevacantists, but in a week this litmus test should work again. [↩]
  3. Mt 16:18-19 again. [↩]
  4. Jn 17:21 [↩]
  5. Jn 8:32 [↩]
  6. Props to Karl Keating for fleshing this out in Catholicism and Fundamentalism. [↩]
  7. With the exception of the Orthodox and apostolic succession, but the latter two are iffy even then. [↩]
  8. Jesus is fully God and fully man, one person with two natures, like us in all things but sin. [↩]
  9. Stay with me Yankee fans. I’m a Braves fan–your titles outnumber ours, what, 27 to 1? Gloat for a minute and then come back to pity my futile little act of defiance. [↩]
  10. Note the lower case “o”–it just means right belief, not an Eastern Church. [↩]
  11. Guilty. [↩]
  12. Guilty on all three counts. My JPII statue/action figure was way ugly, though, so it doesn’t even really count. [↩]

There’s Nothing New About Infallibility

Shoot, friends, it’s been a while. I’ve been speaking up a storm in Michigan (chastity) and Toledo (true manhood) and Cleveland (prayer) and the idea of blogging was just too exhausting. You can basically go to my whole retreat on prayer via YouTube, though–does that make up for it?

If nothing else, you gotta be impressed that we know all their names in an unbroken line back to St. Peter. Unless you think the Masons made them up or it can all be traced back to a murderous albino, in which case you’ve got other issues.

But before I got distracted by the 2 week snowstorm with a total accumulation of practically nothing, I promised y’all some info on the papacy. When last we met, we realized that Peter’s authority was totally Biblical. But does that necessarily tell us anything about Linus, Anacletus, Clement, Evaristus…Pius XII, John XXIII, Paul VI, John Paul I, John Paul II, Benedict XVI, and his successor? Not to mention their 254 confreres?

As always, it’s important to remember that the Bible is not a catechism–it’s not trying to be exhaustive, nor do any Christians actually believe that all truth is explicit in Scripture. Take, for example, the doctrine of the Trinity. While Scripture supports it, it wasn’t until the Council of Nicaea in 325 that anyone really knew for sure that our God is one God in three persons, distinct but not separate.1 And I’d bet my life that nobody who was completely unacquainted with Christianity, no matter how intelligent, could sit down with a Bible and discern that doctrine. For that reason and for so many others (notably the fact that there is no Bible without the Church), theologians have always looked to Scripture and Tradition. Forget the claim to an infallible Magisterium2–it just stands to reason that “primitive” Christians would have a better idea of what Jesus intended than believers who are 2,000 years removed from him.

church fathersIn fact, the recovery of early Christian doctrine is just what the Reformers were going for. So when I bring up early Christian writers, bear in mind that these aren’t just Catholic guys saying Catholic things. These are the leaders of the Church, often just a few generations removed from the Apostles, telling us what was handed down to them. These are the same guys that Luther and Calvin were reading when trying to reconstruct Bible Christianity.

So whether you’re Catholic or Protestant, it matters what these old dudes think. Two or three comments praising the bishop of Rome over the course of centuries might not mean much. But if we start to hear about the primacy of Rome from all sides…well, we’ve got to wonder why everybody in the early Church recognized the pope’s authority when even Catholics these days tend not to. Without further ado:3

  • St. Irenaeus was the disciple of Polycarp who was the disciple of John (the Beloved Apostle), which makes him three degrees from Jesus. Already in the second century, he’s talking about Peter handing on his office to the second pope.

But since it would be too long to enumerate in such a volume as this the succession of all the churches, we shall confound all those who, in whatever manner, whether through self-satisfaction or vainglory, or through blindness and wicked opinion, assemble other than where it is proper, by pointing out here the successions of the bishops of the greatest and most ancient church known to all, founded and organized at Rome by the two most glorious apostles, Peter and Paul, that church which has the tradition and the faith which comes down to us after having been announced to men by the apostles. With that church, because of its superior origin, all the churches must agree, that is, all the faithful in the whole world, and it is in her that the faithful everywhere have maintained the apostolic tradition (Against Heresies 3:3:2 [inter A.D. 180-190]).

In case you didn’t want to read that whole block of text, he’s telling us that the Church finds unity and sure doctrine under the church of Rome.

  • St. Cyprian of  Carthage was a third century North African bishop, sovereign over his diocese in a time when there was little communication with Rome, especially for Christians. Cyprian could easily have set himself up as the ultimate authority, particularly as people were questioning the ligitimacy of a newly-elected pope.

“The Lord says to Peter: ‘I say to you,’ he says, ‘that you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of hell will not overcome it. And to you I will give the keys of the kingdom of heaven; and whatever things you bind on earth shall be bound also in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth, they shall be loosed also in heaven’ [Matt. 16:18–19]). … On him [Peter] he builds the Church, and to him he gives the command to feed the sheep [John 21:17], and although he assigns a like power to all the apostles, yet he founded a single chair [cathedra], and he established by his own authority a source and an intrinsic reason for that unity. Indeed, the others were also what Peter was [i.e., apostles], but a primacy is given to Peter, whereby it is made clear that there is but one Church and one chair. So too, all [the apostles] are shepherds, and the flock is shown to be one, fed by all the apostles in single-minded accord. If someone does not hold fast to this unity of Peter, can he imagine that he still holds the faith? If he [should] desert the chair of Peter upon whom the Church was built, can he still be confident that he is in the Church?” (The Unity of the Catholic Church 4; 1st edition [A.D. 251]).

“Cyprian to Antonian, his brother. Greeting … You wrote … that I should forward a copy of the same letter to our colleague [Pope] Cornelius, so that, laying aside all anxiety, he might at once know that you held communion with him, that is, with the Catholic Church” (Letters, 55[52]:1 [A.D. 253]).

“Would heretics dare to come to the very seat of Peter, whence apostolic faith is derived and whither no errors can come?” (Letters, 59 (55), 14, [256 A.D.]).

When he’s talking about the chair of Peter, that’s the authority of Peter’s successor.4 Then, of course, he tells us that the pope is, in essence, the Church and that anyone who rejects him rejects the Church. Remember that at the time there was only one Church, so to Cyprian’s mind, rejecting the Pope is rejecting Christ. And then there’s that little matter of infallibility in the last line….

  • St. Ambrose of Milan: “It is to Peter that he says: ‘You are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my Church’ [Matt. 16:18]. Where Peter is, there is the Church. And where the Church is, no death is there, but life eternal” (Commentary on Twelve Psalms of David 40:30 [A.D. 389]).
    .
    I don’t need to explain that, do I?
  • St Jerome was a lot smarter than pretty much everyone and also rather cantankerous. The story goes that he studied in Israel so as to learn Hebrew. While he was there, he discovered that the Jews used only 39 books in the Bible. “Jesus was a Jew,” he thought, “so he must have used the same canon.” He translated those 39 and not the deuterocanonical books that were widely accepted by Christians. Pope St. Damasus I, who can’t possibly have known more about Scripture than Jerome, essentially says, “Thanks very much for your opinion. Translate the other seven, too.” Cranky, brilliant, proud Jerome writes this a few years later:

“I follow no leader but Christ and join in communion with none but your blessedness [Pope Damasus I], that is, with the chair of Peter. I know that this is the rock on which the Church has been built. Whoever eats the Lamb outside this house is profane. Anyone who is not in the ark of Noah will perish when the flood prevails” (Letters 15:2 [A.D. 396]).

By all rights, he should have told the pope what for. Instead he submits, telling us that the Pope is the successor of Peter and the one with whom we must be in communion.

  •  Then there’s St. Augustine: “Roma locuta est, causa finita est. Rome has spoken. Case closed.” It doesn’t get much clearer than that.

Of course, there are more. But these are some big names, some writing before the doctrine of the Trinity was solidified and all before the hypostatic union became a household phrase.5 For these men, the primacy of the bishop of Rome and even his infallibility, to some degree, are a given. By the time Francis de Sales talks about it in 1596, the whole thing’s old hat.

When he teaches the whole Church as shepherd, in general matters of faith and morals, then there is nothing but doctrine and truth. And in fact everything a king says is not a law or an edict, but that only which a king says as king and as a legislator. So everything the Pope says is not canon law or of legal obligation; he must mean to define and to lay down the law for the sheep, and he must keep the due order and form .

We must not think that in everything and everywhere his judgment is infallible, but then only when he gives judgment on a matter of faith in questions necessary to the whole Church; for in particular cases which depend on human fact he can err, there is no doubt, though it is not for us to control him in these cases save with all reverence, submission, and discretion. Theologians have said, in a word, that he can err in questions of fact, not in questions of right; that he can err extra cathedram, outside the chair of Peter. that is, as a private individual, by writings and bad example.

But he cannot err when he is in cathedra, that is, when he intends to make an instruction and decree for the guidance of the whole Church, when he means to confirm his brethren as supreme pastor, and to conduct them into the pastures of the faith. For then it is not so much man who determines, resolves, and defines as it is the Blessed Holy Spirit by man, which Spirit, according to the promise made by Our Lord to the Apostles, teaches all truth to the Church.

Even if the man who replaces them is a total lout–which is not at all impossible–he will still be the Vicar of Christ, as the bishop of Rome has been for nearly 2,000 years.

It seems, then, that Scripture supports the idea of Petrine primacy and infallibility. The testimony of history is that those closest to Jesus understood that this charism was not limited to Peter but was passed down to his successors. That the pope’s infallibility was absolute and yet strictly limited was clear long before it was officially defined at the First Vatican Council in 1870.  Indeed, it seems that a Church without such a leader would be destined for failure, or at least for fracture and falsehood. But that, my friends, is a post for another day. Keep praying for the conclave and the future Holy Father!

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If you want to keep up with where I’m going and where I’ve been, check out this page. And if you’re anywhere west of the continental divide and you want me to come speak, let me know! I’m heading out that way starting in April and have literally nothing planned for May and June. Help me keep busy!

Since I know you always want to know what’s going on with my fingernails, here’s the scoop: I wanted to paint them black because I kind of feel like the Interregnum is a time of mourning, even though the Holy Father didn’t die. But then I painted them black and felt like I was goth and it was 1998 and I couldn’t handle it. So I threw in some purple for Lent (using ideas from my best friend Pinterest) and now I feel like a rock star from the 80s but it took so long that I just can’t bring myself to take it off. It’s a conversation piece, though, and you know I always have trouble coming up with ways to talk about Jesus….

Purple black geometric fingernails

While you’re wasting time on the internet, would you take 30 seconds to vote for my friends at Old Dominion University to win some money for their campus ministry? I had the privilege of speaking to them in the fall and they were engaged and earnest and welcoming–let’s win this thing for them!

Also, my dear friend Ute is hosting a Bible verse photography linkup–click over there to see the verse for March!

  1. I recited this formula to a Jehovah’s Witness a while back. He said, “Well, that’s new!” No, actually. Pretty much nothing the Church says is new. Your whole religion, on the other hand…. [↩]
  2. Teaching body of the Church–the bishops united under the pope. [↩]
  3. Oh, and I probably got all of these from www.catholic.com forever ago. Actually, I’m pretty sure that I first composed this section in a Facebook message to the Protestant student I mentioned in the superpowers post. [↩]
  4. We know this because it doesn’t make any sense to hold fast to a chair of a dead guy. [↩]
  5. What? You don’t mention that daily? [↩]

The Pope’s Superpowers Are NOT in the Bible

I had a Protestant student once who started arguing with me about the papacy. I pulled out Matthew 16:18-19, John 21, and quotations from the Church Fathers, but somehow he still wasn’t on board.

“I believe all that,” he said, frustrated. “I just don’t believe that he has superpowers.”

I’m pretty sure I laughed in his face.

For those of you who might be new to this pope thing, riding the media bandwagon that’s following all the cardinals around waiting to see who our next pope will be, let me explain something to you: the pope does not have superpowers. He can’t fly or walk through walls. In most areas, he’s just a normal man. The pope can sin–as far as I know, every pope has sinned, some in very impressive ways. The pope can even be wrong on matters of faith and morals.

What makes the pope special (aside from being the leader of the biggest Church/religion/group of people in the world) is what’s called infallibility. When we say the pope is infallible, we don’t mean that he can’t ever be wrong. We mean that he is incapable of error when speaking authoritatively on matters of faith and morals. This might help:

Q: What’s the lowest score the pope could get on a trigonometry test?

A: Zero. Infallibility has nothing to do with trig.

Q: What’s the lowest score the pope could get on a theology test?

A. Zero. The pope can be wrong when he’s not speaking infallibly.

Q: Okay, fine. What’s the lowest score the pope could get on a theology test if he were taking it infallibly?

A: Zero. He could leave the whole thing blank.

Rather unassuming for such an important piece of furniture, don't you think?
Rather unassuming for such an important piece of furniture, don’t you think?

You see, infallibility isn’t a superpower that gives the pope the magical ability to know all things. It’s actually very limited. It only applies when the pope is speaking ex cathedra1 on matters of faith and morals. Scholars differ as to how many times this has happened, but the general consensus seems to be two. That’s right, twice ever.2 Suddenly it doesn’t seem like so much of a superpower, does it? And it doesn’t even guarantee that the pope will say all the right things, only that nothing he says will be wrong. It’s a very limited charism, but an essential one if Christ’s Church is about Truth and not just feeling good.

Despite this limitation, the issue of the papacy remains a huge one for non-Catholics–and, to be honest, for many Catholics as well. The idea of one man having the ability to exercise such authority, of all Christians submitting to one man, and not even necessarily a very holy one at that? Well, folks, if it weren’t so Biblical and Traditional and logical, I wouldn’t be a fan either.

Obviously, our go-to Scripture passage is going to be today’s Gospel,3 Matthew 16:17-19:

Jesus said to him in reply, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah. For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my heavenly Father. And so I say to you, you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it. I will give you the keys to the Kingdom of heaven. Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.”

The Giving of the Keys to St. Peter by Pietro Perugino

The first thing Jesus does here is give Simon a new name–Peter–one that had only been used as a name one time in recorded history up to that point. He gives him the name “Rock” (Peter) to tell us that he is a new creation from this point. Every time we see Simon called Peter (in every Gospel and a number of other books as well), it’s a reminder that Simon was just a fisherman but became something more.

What did he become? The Rock the Church was built on, of course. Why else would Jesus give him the name Rock and then start talking about building the Church on a rock? Certainly, Jesus is the cornerstone, the true foundation of the Church. But it’s no coincidence that he gives Simon the name Rock and then declares that he will build his Church on this rock.

Wouldn’t want to try to slip this into your jeans pocket.

Next, he tells Peter that he will give him the keys to the kingdom. These aren’t the symbolic “keys to the city” that they hand out to people at the end of superhero movies. In the ancient world, a key was a large, heavy object. You’d only really lock your house if you were leaving town for a while and you wouldn’t take your key with you. You’d give it to someone who was staying back home, putting that person in charge of your estate while you’re away.

So the automatic connotation for anyone in the ancient world is that by giving Peter the keys, Jesus is putting Peter in charge in his absence. For the Jews, this is even more clear. Jesus’ language is strongly reminiscent of Isaiah 22, the reading that we often hear as a first reading when Matthew 16 is the Gospel:

On that day I will summon my servant Eliakim, son of Hilkiah; I will clothe him with your robe, gird him with your sash, confer on him your authority. He shall be a father to the inhabitants of Jerusalem, and to the house of Judah. I will place the key of the House of David on his shoulder; what he opens, no one will shut, what he shuts, no one will open. (Is 22:20-22)

Here Eliakim is given the authority of Shebna, master of the palace, symbolized by his being given the key of the House of David. And in case you didn’t catch the connection, that last line is just about identical to Matthew’s binding and loosing. Just as Eliakim had the authority of Shebna, it seems, Peter is given the ability to exercise the authority of Christ.

This authority is expressed in Isaiah and Matthew as the power to bind and loose. An ability given later to all the Apostles gathered,4 this binding and loosing is the power of infallibility, the power to speak with the authority of Christ, individually in Peter’s case and collectively in the case of the Apostles, the first bishops.

Denethor isn’t exactly the ideal Steward of Gondor, but we honor the office, not the person.

Essentially, Peter is the steward of Gondor.5 Jesus is the King of Gondor, leaving his kingdom in the charge of his steward. For hundreds of years his line may be gone. In that time, the steward exercises his authority because it was entrusted to him by the king. But he never takes the king’s throne–his chair is smaller and to the side, because while he functions as king, he is not the king. In the same way, the pope has the authority of Christ as head of the Church because Christ gave him that authority. Jesus knew that his Church would need leadership and an infallible voice in his absence6 and so he left us with just that in the person of the Pope.

But the argument doesn’t stand or fall on Matthew 16 alone, or even on the new name or the fact that Peter is listed first in every list of Apostles. How about John 21, where Jesus the Good Shepherd tells Peter three times to take care of his sheep? Jesus knows he’s going away for a time and he tells Peter to be the Good Shepherd in his place. Then there’s Galatians 1:18 where super-educated Paul goes to uneducated Peter to make sure that he–Paul–is teaching the right Gospel. He’s not concerned with the other Apostles, just wants Peter’s seal of approval. Sounds like Peter’s more than just an impetuous fisherman.

The argument isn’t really about Peter’s authority, though, so much as it is about his successors’. “Sure, Peter was the leader of the early church,” people will say, “but what on earth does that have to do with Pius and Leo and Johns ad infinitum?”

That, my friends, is a question for another post. Rest assured, the writings of the Church Fathers and the brains we have in our very own heads will make it clear that Peter’s office isn’t just for him but for those who take his place as well.7 For now, let’s appreciate the fact that the office of the papacy is entirely Biblical and that nobody has to pretend that the pope can do magic in order to be a Catholic. The Pope’s superpowers are certainly not in the Bible–unless you mean infallibility. Cause that one is.

Tune in…you know…eventually for parts 2 and 3: Tradition and logic. Happy Feast Day!

  1. From the chair, meaning on his authority as the successor of Peter. He doesn’t actually have to sit in Peter’s chair. Speaking of which, happy Feast of the Chair of St. Peter! You still can’t eat meat today. [↩]
  2. Or at least in the modern age. Immaculate Conception in 1854 and Assumption in 1950 if you’re keeping track. [↩]
  3. I’m actually writing this last night and too lazy to bring up the USCCB’s readings page. But our Church is so logical that I know this is the Gospel without even looking. [↩]
  4. Matthew 18:18–can we say ordinary Magisterium? [↩]
  5. If you haven’t read The Lord of the Rings–read the books, not seen the movies–you probably want to skip this paragraph. [↩]
  6. More on this in a few days. [↩]
  7. Acts 1:20–apostolic succession ftw. [↩]

I’m Glad Pope Benedict Is Resigning

I’m always creeping people out talking about how cute he is, but come on! How can you not love that face??

I loved JPII. He was the pope of my conversion, the pope whose eyes shouted love for me. There were moments in my youth when I believed the lies the world tells about the Church’s misogynistic and antiquated ways, times when I felt that perhaps it was just some patriarchal bureaucracy. But I knew that my Papa loved me–not loved everybody, but loved me. When I couldn’t believe that God loved me, this Pope who responded to cries of “We love you!” with “Perhaps I love you more”–he showed me the love of Christ in a powerful way.

When he died, I sobbed. And then I rejoiced. I had loved him for so long but I knew that, as much as he loved me, he would never know my name. I studied in Rome for a semester to be near him, but 5 seats in from the aisle was the closest I was going to get. In death, he knew me. In death, he listened to me. In death, he sat beside me at the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.

I was fully prepared to love his successor, but I knew that I would never adore him the way I adored John Paul.

And I was right. I don’t love Pope Benedict that way–but I love him just as much. See, JPII is my number 2 crush of all time. No joke, I see pictures of him at 60 and I think he’s the handsomest man I’ve ever seen. I don’t even notice that he’s old. I don’t feel that way about Papa Benny; I don’t swoon over his pictures or get butterflies in my stomach when I think about him. He’s not exciting–not the rock star John Paul was–but he feels like home. When I look at his picture or read his words, I know that I am held in the Father’s embrace. I suppose I loved JPII like I love Christ. But I love Pope Benedict like I love the Father.

So this morning’s news stunned me. Not only are we losing him, in essence, but he’s choosing to go. And yet I feel no sense of betrayal, not even confusion. There may not be a holier man in the world today; if he feels the Lord has asked him to abdicate, I trust him.

Nor does any man more deserve to retire to a life of prayer. For 85 years, Pope Benedict has poured out his life for the Church. In recent years, he has prayed and written and spoken and traveled and suffered ridicule and abuse and yet still he loves us. A dear student of mine was blessed to meet him once; she told me that she has never in her life felt more loved than when he looked in her eyes.

Even in stepping down, he is serving us.

And now he feels that he is no longer capable of giving the Church what she needs. I have a hard time believing that any man alive would be better at this work than he, but I trust him. I’m stunned by his humility in acknowledging his limitations, most particularly by his entreaty: “I ask pardon for all my defects.” That such a man would forgo weeks of interviews and accolades from his adoring faithful and instead speak quietly to the Cardinals, proclaiming his weakness and begging their forgiveness–this is the reason the world stands shocked. Not because he resigned, but because even his resignation is not about him. Sr. Mary Theresa of the Dominican Sisters of Mary, Mother of the Eucharist put it beautifully: “Pope John Paul II remained in office so that he might show us how to suffer and how to die. Pope Benedict XVI is leaving the Papal Office so that he might show us how to live in humble honesty.”

The Holy Father’s resignation is a great loss to our Church. But it is also a great gift–a gift of humility, of prayer, of discernment. In stepping down, our beloved Pope continues to teach us to live in the Father’s will. I’m glad he’s teaching that lesson. I’m glad he’s living such humility. But most of all, I’m glad he will have some years of peace at the end of his life. The gates of hell will never overcome the Church of Christ; may God bless us with another saint as Vicar.

 

Aggie Catholics has a great piece on why this is a good thing. Fr. James Martin tells us what this teaches us about discernment. Tim O’Malley explains how this lesson in seflessness should change us all. Jimmy Akin‘s first thoughts help clarify the situation. And my dear friend Christina Grace is just mourning the loss.