5 (more) Keys to Understanding Pope Francis, #3

Continuing the theme from my 2014 e-book (now out of...print?), on understanding the Church's first Argentinian Pope six years in, here comes key #3: 

3. Pope Francis trusts in the Holy Spirit.


Here I can speak from personal experience, not of Pope Francis, but of the Holy Spirit as the real "ruler" in a Church institution. After all, I live in a canonically established religious institute. My life is regulated by Canon Law and my canonically recognized congregation's Constitutions. I have made perpetual vows according to those Constitutions and in line with Canon Law. I have staked my life on God's faithfulness not just to me personally, but to my congregation.


Most people assume that the vow of chastity is the toughest of the three. (It certainly is the aspect of our life that speaks the most clearly to society today!) But for me (and, I think, for many women religious) the really tough vow is obedience. We commit ourselves to obey women whose directives we promise to receive as the will of God for us. That doesn't mean that we vow to be brainless doormats (we can respond with information that the superior may not have had when making a decision, for example), but the bottom line is still that the superior in a certain sense represents in a community the place or role of the Divine Master among the disciples, and her decisions are not to be shaken off.


A number of years ago a decision was made by a major superior (someone my Mom referred to as "Big Momma"). This decision affected over a hundred sisters. It was supported by a powerful member of the hierarchy. There was no form of appeal. It was simply one of those rare cases in religious life where a very large group of sisters was obliged to receive an unexpected decision in a spirit of obedience.

I have been a religious sister for over 40 years, and that was the most difficult time I have ever faced in keeping my vows.


That day's Gospel was the story of the multiplication of bread and fish in John 6. John lets us know, "Jesus knew what he was going to do; he said this to test Philip's response." Those words seemed to speak directly to our situation.

And then the next day's Gospel was the continuation of John 6, with Jesus walking on the water. The disciples cried out, but Jesus said to them, "It is I!"


I cannot describe to you what it was like to hear that Gospel proclaimed under those circumstances. The words, "It is I!" reached into my body and shook me as if the Lord wanted me to really know that it was, in fact, he who was behind all that was going on. It looked so terribly unfair, and on the human level it is quite possible that not everything that had led to the "Big Momma's" decision was entirely above-board; that it was too hurried; that all-too-human motives had entered in, without information being pursued. None of that mattered as much as the fact that in and through all of this, Jesus would still be the Master, would still be in charge, would "order all things mightily and sweetly" and in such a way that they would turn out better than if the humans in charge had done their due diligence in the most proper manner possible.


I learned over the next few days that I was not the only sister who had heard those words of the Gospel in the same striking manner.


Time has shown that what looked like a fatal and dismaying abuse of authority in the end had no dismal repercussions on our community. If anything, it strengthened our faith; I know it strengthened mine to such an extent that every time I am tested I go back to that assurance, "It is I!" to remind myself of how faithful God is. (When I write those words in my journal they are underscored three times and followed by three exclamation points. Always.)


And so I offer you this experience of mine to suggest how Pope Francis may trust in the Holy Spirit. Certainly he trusts in the Holy Spirit more than in human processes and promises!


Likewise, we as a Church are also invited to trust more in the Holy Spirit than in merely human actions, rationales, projects and plans. We are invited to trust more in the Holy Spirit than in our own fears. We are invited to trust more in the Holy Spirit than in the human qualities of the Pope. We are invited to trust that it is only the Holy Spirit who keeps the Barque of Peter afloat on the stormy waters of our times, and that as long as we stay in the boat, we have nothing, really nothing, to fear because of the one with Peter who says to him and to us, "It is I!"

Here are all the "5 (More) Keys" posts:
Key #1 (Pope Francis is Latin American)
Key #2 (Pope Francis is not afraid of chaos)
Key #3 (Pope Francis Trusts in the Holy Spirit)
Key #4 (Pope Francis is Catholic)
Key #5 (Pope Francis is the Pope) 

5 (more) Keys to Understanding Pope Francis, #2

Continuing the theme from my 2014 e-book (now out of...print?), and following up on the first of these five efforts at understanding the Church's first Argentinian Pope six years in, here comes key #2:

2. Pope Francis is not afraid of chaos.

"No kidding," I hear you say.

Think of the first Christian Pentecost. The sound of a driving wind (where was it coming from?), the unmoored flames popping up seemingly everywhere, voices raised in languages that no one had ever heard, much less spoken, before. It must have seemed like...chaos.

I think Pope Francis would rather provide an open forum for conflicting opinions to be discussed with broad input than allow them to keep being cultivated by special interest groups that cloak their agendas in acceptable language and symbols, all the while working feverishly to divide and conquer.

In other words, he is not afraid of chaos, but he is very suspicious of secret machinations.

What may look like chaos is often part of a process of development; it's a stage in the working out of things. Ideas are proposed, perhaps with fanfare and to general applause. Then, from a quiet corner of the room, an observation is made. A gentle ripple begins to spread. Another fanfare. This time, a trumpet blast from an opposing group. More applause. From a different corner, an upraised eyebrow signals the start of a subtle chain reaction...

No one can really predict where the process will lead. Maybe in the short term it will be a dead-end. Maybe it will lead to something less than optimal being established, but in the long term, no matter how much chaos is raised, we know that when it comes to the Church of Jesus Christ, "the gates of hell will not prevail."

As an older person, Francis has seen this sort of thing many times. No wonder he's not too concerned.

Here are all the "5 (More) Keys" posts:
Key #1 (Pope Francis is Latin American)
Key #2 (Pope Francis is not afraid of chaos)
Key #3 (Pope Francis Trusts in the Holy Spirit)
Key #4 (Pope Francis is Catholic)
Key #5 (Pope Francis is the Pope) 

5 (more) Keys to Understanding Pope Francis, #1

Six years ago, just about this time of year, I was working on what turned into a small e-book, 5 Keys to Understanding Pope Francis, who was a very new Pope at the time  (the book was recently retired, or I'd link to it). Especially after the events of the past three weeks with social media headlines from extreme left and right, I thought it was time to offer five MORE keys to understanding Pope Francis.

These keys come in part from my own reflection, in part from seeing the misinterpretations that have gained way too much traction in social media, and in part from the genuine questions that have come my way from Catholics in the kind of churchly circles I tend to swim in: liturgically sedate, doctrinally unadventurous, conventionally pious. (Let me state from the outset, for the benefit of any who are tired of finding themselves on the receiving end of veiled criticism, that  I do not intend these words in any negative sense whatever: I am trying to be dispassionately accurate about things I am actually passionate about!)

1: Pope Francis is Latin American.
This means he is deeply familiar with expressions of faith integrated into a Catholic culture that is, some might say, "colorful" (in more ways than one). We "hear" that culture in the chords of Mexican mañanitas; we see it in the way the Sign of the Cross is made (with the thumb and forefinger forming a cross that is kissed at the "Amen"); we touch it in the textiles with woven patterns that often go back centuries; we feel it in the heat of a thousand candles burning not only in shrines before fully-clothed statues, but in home shrines (fire hazard be damned). In the most middle-of-the-road parish in Brazil on the most ordinary Sunday in Ordinary Time, the proclamation of the Gospel is preceded by a festive procession with loud and joyful acclamations, song, full-bodied movement through which every member of the assembly welcomes the Word of the Lord and declares his or her readiness to hear and obey that divine message.

For the Latino Catholic, the liturgical assembly is a community in a real sense of the word: the family does not go to Church simply to fulfill an obligation to go to Mass. Going to Mass is gathering as a family to hear the Word of God and respond together; to receive Jesus and to spend time, even a lot of time, with his people. The children run freely and play together after Mass (often during the Mass they are left free to walk the aisles and look at the statues, or visit another family in their pew); the adults are glad to share traditional food and drinks afterwards, catch up on news and ask or receive needed assistance. There is no rush to return home.

Heading to a Día de los Muertos
parade in Albuquerque. 

These are aspects of "popular" religious culture in the sense that it is imbued with the native spirit of the various indigenous societies that first encountered the Gospel in the 16th century: it bears the mark of the ordinary "people" (populus) and their history, purified of elements that were found directly contrary to the Good News. (Where things were ambiguous, that ambiguity was taken in the most positive sense and steered toward the Gospel...as much as possible, as with the Día de Muertos.)

North American Catholics who live in areas like San Antonio, Southern California, Miami, Chicago, parts of New York City are familiar with these living cultural traditions. Outside of these areas, they may seem like artificial add-ons, especially when they touch the liturgy. But for Pope Francis and other Latin Americans, these are normal and authentic ways of celebrating the liturgy and living parish life, not forced efforts at local color or "inclusivity."

But there may be a bit more, because...
Pope Francis is Argentinian.

This summer I learned a little something from an Argentinian sister about her co-nationals. "Generally, Latino people are demonstrative," she said, "but we Argentinians tend to be more reserved. As a culture, we are not emotionally expressive." I suppose I would say that this makes the Argentinians seem more sophisticated. And Argentina's 20th century history was ... interesting, to say the least.

At any rate, Pope Francis' Argentinian culture might be important for another reason than people thinking he might be aloof when he is really just in "neutral." But Pope Francis's words have been unusually harsh when it comes to one group. He will "encounter" anyone and everyone, and is willing to "dialogue" with all types. Yet he seems completely unwilling to engage with priests and seminarians who promote what many North American Catholics think of as "solemn" liturgies, especially the Latin Mass according to the 1962 missal. (There is official dialogue with the breakaway traditionalist group started by Archbishop Marcel Lefebvre.)

What gives?

As archbishop, Jorge Cardinal Bergoglio had a strong track record of being with, for, and among the poor. It was his responsibility to provide for basic instruction in the faith, offer the sacraments, console the sorrowing, support the weak in a major city in which millions barely survive in a completely broken social order, and he was known for having time for the city's poorest.
This is just speculation on my part, but what if in Latin America the population that tends to favor solemn high Latin liturgies has also tended to be comfortable enough to have liturgical preferences in the first place, whereas the majority of people are barely getting by? I can see that Pope Francis would not be particularly interested in what might seem to be arcane in-house matters when as a bishop he had to deal with the moral and pastoral implications of overcrowded slums, drug (and human) trafficking, and the desperate lives of the hopelessly poor in a country with rampant political corruption--all things that he can now see on a much vaster scale now from Peter's chair.

There is also the unfortunate reality that hypocrites like the disgraced founder Marcial Maciel (and other moneyed [politically-aligned?] parties sponsoring "pious" organizations) with large numbers of followers in Latin America seem to have cultivated qualities that we can see make Francis bristle with irritation: "rigidity" in manners, impeccably high taste, scrupulous observance in liturgy and traditional piety. It could be that Francis is personally impatient with preoccupations that seem to him, from his experience of specific cases, not matched by authenticity and a serious commitment to social justice and which may be tainted (even if third-hand) by the grossest betrayals possible*.

I am not saying that concern for justice is not there, just suggesting that the Pope's personal experiences in the Latin American context may have something to do with his apparent disinterest in church traditions (small "t") and the concerns of people who are passionate about them.

So what I am getting at is, if you are one of those high-liturgy-loving Catholics (I am!), or a Saturno-wearing priest (not me!), don't take it personally that the Pope doesn't have time for your special interests. Don't wince at the brusque remarks about rigid seminarians or clericalism. This is not about you or us (he doesn't know you, right?). If he doesn't engage in dialogue with this one sector of the Church, it is perhaps because he feels he has already experienced enough of it for a lifetime. Jorge Bergoglio may have been as burned by his experience 30 years ago as some of us were by the liturgical opposite. (Hey, we're in the Northern Hemisphere, so things get reversed!)

Tune in later this week for another key to understanding Pope Francis!


Here are all the "5 (More) Keys" posts:
Key #1 (Pope Francis is Latin American)
Key #2 (Pope Francis is not afraid of chaos)
Key #3 (Pope Francis Trusts in the Holy Spirit)
Key #4 (Pope Francis is Catholic)
Key #5 (Pope Francis is the Pope) 


*Several less famous but popular religious communities and movements founded over the last several decades in Argentina, Peru and Brazil have recently been suppressed or are currently under investigation for all manner of sexual abuse and malfeasance, including money laundering for drug lords. Some of these groups were (are?) noteworthy for their outward asceticism.

We're b-a-ck!

Well, sort of. Still a bit jet lagged, to tell the truth. The plane got in Tuesday night, with six Daughters of St Paul on board: we picked up an extra sister while in Rome. Sister Andrea, from the Czech Republic, will be in the US for a good part of the year working on her English skills and taking part in the Media Literacy course (put on by our Pauline Center for Media Studies). But one of the six will be returning to Rome sooner than anticipated.

Our provincial superior, Sister Donna Giaimo (third from left in photo), was elected to our congregation's general government

as a councilor to the new Superior General, Sister Anna Caiazza. So Sr Donna (a former member of the Daughters of St Paul Choir) will be moving to Rome at the end of November to serve a six year term, along with two re-elected councilors and three other newly elected councilors (from Korea, Italy and Kenya--the first African sister in our general government). For us (and, I'm sure, for our sisters in Korea, Italy and Kenya) this is case in which the greater good of the worldwide congregation is asking us to sacrifice an "Isaac" whose capable service we have really appreciated and hoped to benefit from a bit more ... directly. It is a real test of faith!

Our new Superior General, Sr Anna Caiazza, introducing me to the Holy Father.

In order to strengthen our faith in the face of that sacrifice in accord with the mandate given to the successor of Peter to "strengthen the brethren," we were given a special private meeting with Pope Francis the day before our General Chapter ended. I had been doubtful that non-delegates would be able to participate in this audience, but we were included, and even our sisters who work in a nearby Vatican office were allowed to sit in for the Papal address and one-on-one handshake with the Holy Father. His talk was practically a confirmation of everything that had been discussed during the long Chapter, and when he reached the point of saying "We don't have time to lose," he looked up, raised his hand in that characteristic teaching gesture of his, pointing to the sky and repeated: "There's no time to lose." You can read his whole talk here; in fact, I recommend it!

Outdoor art in Albano. The bucket says, "Laudato Si"; the tag is #exemplumomnibus

Speaking of Pope Francis, in late September he visited the nearby town of Albano (location of our hospital), where the local bishop commissioned an outdoor art piece (unveiled the day of the papal visit). The following Monday I had an errand to run in town: a perfect excuse to see the painting for myself! It is located right across from the Cathedral entrance, on the outside wall of a building. There was a big truck in the parking lot when I got there, so I took a few pictures and then went to visit the Cathedral. When I came out, the driver had pulled the truck several feet forward, giving me an unobstructed view of the painting, which really is charming. I got a very strong sense of how intensely Europeans feel the environmental issue; by addressing it, Pope Francis is establishing a sense of common ground with people who may not share our appreciation of creation as coming from a loving and provident Creator. I came to understand that this gives him the kind of credibility that grounds his proposal for a "human ecology": If people do not feel that Catholics respect the environment, our calls to respect human life seem hypocritical to them.

Back to the Chapter and elections: right before the elections were to begin, the translators had been sent away from the retreat house to leave the electors as free as possible. That gave us extra and unexpected freedom, too: free time in Rome! (Granted, I got called back the very next morning for one more day's service, but I still had two free days in Rome I hadn't been counting on at all.) This was my chance to see things I had never seen before, and to have new experiences in the Eternal City. For the first time ever (it took a bit of work to find it, too!), I visited the ancient church of St Lawrence in Lucina (that is, on the grounds of Lady Lucina's property), where the gridiron on which the famous deacon was martyred is preserved in a glass urn under an altar. The relics of Pope St Alexander are in a glass urn under another altar, and there is a fabulously carved 13th century Easter candle holder in the sanctuary. One thing we did not see was the papal throne from the 12th century; except for a few days each year it is kept in a hidden chamber behind the altar.

The standing figure on the far left in San Marco's half-dome
is Pope Gregory IV, Pope from 827-844. The square halo
means he was alive when this mosaic was made.

I made it back to the Gesù to light a candle at the tomb of St Ignatius (whose altar was being covered in scaffolding as we arrived). After that, since we were near Piazza Venezia, we went around the corner to see if perhaps the ancient Basilica of San Marco was still open. This was question, because by then it was noon, and I remembered from my earlier visits to Rome that most of the churches were locked between noon and 4 p.m. daily, leaving only tourist sites and the major Basilicas open for visits. Surprisingly, the "paradise" (the gated vestibule) of San Marco was unlocked, so in we went, going down several steps to the marble-floored area where catechumens were once relegated. Then we went down several more steps (with each step going down a few centuries further back in time) until we entered the Basilica itself. As we opened the doors, the sound system began playing Bruckner's incredible "Locus Iste" (listen below). We had all the time in the world to wander up the darkened aisle and put a euro in the box to light up mosaics that date to the early 800's.

Another church that has learned the pastoral value of staying open all day is the ancient church of St Marcello, one of Rome's original parishes--and so exceptional that it even had a baptistry: one which Sr Julia and I were privileged to see in a private visit below the streets of modern Rome. Our guide explained that the baptistry predated not only the church, but Christ: it was originally an ordinary Roman bath, connected to the famous water system that fed the Trevi fountain and other Roman water sources with exceptionally pure water from 15 miles away. We climbed back up, and more than halfway to street level we saw the marble facade of the ancient church.

We also made it to the grandiose "Chiesa Nuova" (New Church) built by St Philip Neri. (I prayed at his tomb--see left--for my great niece and nephew who attend St Philip Neri school.) Of course we also got gelato at every opportunity! The Church of St Ignatius (near the Pantheon) was also newly accessible during lunch hours. We visited twice. I lit a candle there for my brother-in-law Robert and nephew, Chase Robert, at the tomb of their patron saint, Robert Bellarmine (the saint's body, in his cardinal's robe's, is in a glass urn; photo on the right). Nearby, I discovered the hitherto unknown-to-me chapel of St Francis Xavier, now used only on Sundays for Mass in English. And just up the street (alley?) is a restaurant (Il Falchetto) where, on Sunday, eight of us met for a solemn high pranzo worthy to be remembered. (Sister Margaret Joseph brings all her visitors here and says she has never seen anyone disappointed.)

Following that pranzo, Sister Margaret took us on a private tour of the excavations below the Church of Santa Maria in Via Lata, where an ancient tradition says St Luke once lived (and with him, of course, St Paul during his Roman imprisonment). That it was the site of Roman shops and dwellings is clear from the archaeological evidence. It was also the site of at least two different Byzantine monastic communities in two different eras. Most of the frescoed icons had to be removed to a museum for restoration and safe-keeping, since once the area was excavated they began to deteriorate rapidly. (In fact, there is a well at that deep level from which you can still draw water). Still, there are remnants of icons, presumably past the point of restoration, which gazed upon us from the damp walls. (The picture here was enhanced so you could see a bit more of the facial detail than is immediately evident.)

That left us one more day--a rainy day, as it turned out. I made plans with one of the American delegates to spend the afternoon visiting the Basilica of St Paul-outside-the-walls. Providentially for the Daughters of St Paul, a relatively new bus line that goes all the way St Paul's burial site now has its "capolinea" (end station) right by our Generalate. We managed to time things perfectly so that we arrived just as the bus was ready to depart. I even practiced live-streaming via Twitter as we lit up the Basilica's apse mosaics, and then signed off to pray at the Apostle's tomb, leaving a small donation so that "Nunblogger's" readers could be remembered in a Mass by the Benedictine monks whose abbot (Ildefonse Schuster, now Blessed) had welcomed Blessed Timothy Giaccardo and the first Pauline community in 1926. On the way home, we got off the bus a few stops early so we could get a last, "Arrividerci, Roma" gelato at the local gelateria.

And then it was time to pack, adding in as many of the little gifts we had received from the chapter

I'm ready for my Golden Jubilee
(or my funeral, or both).

delegates as possible. (I especially appreciated the tote bags, pens, and the 1 TB drive with all the talks, slide programs and photos that had been shared during the month!) With the weight limits on international flights down to 23 kg, that meant I had to leave behind not only some of the gifts I had received, but also the jar of chestnut spread I had bought on my first day in Rome as a treat to bring back...small as it was, it was heavy enough to make a difference. (I didn't even think about it until later, but the real culprit was my holy card supply: I had stocked up on my favorite icon of Jesus!)

And so here we are: overcoming jet lag one day at a time. Ready to return to "ordinary time" in the service of the Lord and his Word.